Divergences
by Praegressus
Summary: Time is not absolute. Changing the little details can create truly astounding divergences in a story. A no-nonsense story about an unpredictable ninja, as well as the people and events that shaped his life. Will be a 1000k epic, extended description inside, pairings not yet relevant.
1. Prologue

**What you have here is a story whose goal is to develop some of the characters Kishi left unfinished, as well as entertain a very specific set of readers.**

**This won't be a 'Naruto becomes god, everyone is alive and super-happy' never to be finished story. ****No, I hope to make this a story that is sometimes happy, sometimes sad, and sometimes awesome.**

**Please bear with me through this 'Prologue' (Don't know what else to call it), as it's necessary to explain the divergences in this story from the canon plot. **

**If you took the time to check my story out, please check chapter 2 as well before making the final call if you want to read it or not. **

**Thanks in advance.**

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><p>Faint moonlight illuminated the seaside cliffs, the soft hum of the eastern winds accompanied by the eternal beat of waves against the rocky shore. A full moon hung in the nighttime sky, stars shining brightly. It was a cloudless night, and one could see clearly.<p>

Two ninja stood on the cliff, eyes turned to the horizon, the stars just beyond their sight. Their expressions were frozen into neutral masks, their worn gray mantles flapping in the wind.

"Hey old man, why'd you pick this place in particular? It doesn't look too special to me." Huffed the young man, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of an old, Second War issue shovel. Several seals were etched into that handle, each slightly more complex than the last. They shimmered in the moonlight, at times looking like nothing more than a trick of the light.

"Quiet, boy," Growled the old man, his eyes narrowing on a single point in the horizon, "this place is sacred to the seers. It is where every one of us comes to see the vision that defines our purpose."

The young man chuckled. "Looks like a simple clearing to me."

The relationship between the two men was unusual, even for a world where beings such as the tailed beasts roamed. Neither knew the other's name, referring to each other with 'boy' and 'old man', if either was curious to the other's name, he kept it to himself. Knowing the truth now, after so many years of travelling together, it would be...wrong. Even now, over fifteen years after they've met, they held to that unspoken agreement.

The older man cleared his throat, taking a few lazy steps back. He did not need to hurry, as his fate was known to him already. Slumping down onto the soft grass, he placed his pouch to his right, and began the slow and delicate task of disarming the seals one by one. Should he fail to disarm them, he'd have to wait for them to cool off, and that was time he wasn't willing to spend. So his fingers worked slowly, chakra rising to their tips every so often when the procedure demanded it.

Soon enough, the first item had materialized inside the pouch, a set of prayer beads he knew belonged to the great seer of a village far, far away, further than even the ravaged lands. Then came a set of candles, the same kind he was taught to make by his grandfather, back when he called the land of stone his home. They were simple of design, color a muted red, the color reminiscent of a cherry fruit. Once upon a time, he knew the symbolism of it, but that was long ago, before the third war.

The experienced hands slowed down, the memories still fresh and vivid in his mind, despite the many years. The heavy feeling of earth chakra in the air, the 'squish' sound when one of the colossal boulders hit their marks, turning squads of leaf shinobi into a fine layer of crimson paste. Even this old, he could not see it in a different way from the way he did back then. He sighed, removing the scroll from the pouch.

Scrolls were a very versatile tool for a shinobi. Fuinjutsu was powerful, powerful enough to turn an average ninja into a formidable one. The stone had no great interest in the sealing arts, such matters were left to the Uzumaki of the whirlpools. But the Uzumaki were targets now, and the armies of stone and sand and waterfall gathered at the border, destined to turn the prosperous land into a waste.

He has seen the end of Uzushiogakure, just as he has seen the end of the third war.

The young man scratched at his forehead, staring at the headband in his hand. It shone with the emblem of the stone, the only blemish the deep gash across the middle, cutting the etching horizontally. He had not crossed the band, he cared deeply for his home. The headband belonged to a man who once did him wrong, a man who taught him two valuable lessons.

The first lesson he learned very young, barely a genin. He could still _hear_ the terrible creaking as the wooden foundations gave to the earth jutsu, crumbling into fine dust. His parents were retired, they didn't fight anymore. It wasn't_ fair_. On that day, so many years ago, he learned that nothing lasts forever, that loss was a crucial part of life, not just for shinobi, but for man.

The second was newer, only a year or two since it dawned upon him. He and the old man came back to Iwagakure, exactly thirteen years after the end of the war. They didn't speak much back then, coming 'home' seemed to take away their words, replacing them with a heaviness that ended up lodged in the pit of his stomach. However, the man was there, the same headband hanging loosely around his neck. It only took a passing glance for him to know, to absolutely _know_ it was him.

The second lesson was that revenge was meaningless. Even as the man's blood gushed out of what remained of his neck, he did not feel the emptiness fade, he only clutched his shovel. Only years later would he wonder about why the headband was crossed through, and why the man lurked around the training fields of Iwa.

Indifferently, he once again tied the headband, feeling the soft cloth press against his forehead. He'd have to get rid of it if the old man's idea worked, he'd have to hide it in a pouch full of seals, and he would have to sit for an hour every time he wanted to get something from it. He would much rather go back to the stone and open up a ramen stand. There was a girl there, with hair as dark as the sky above him. He intended to marry her and have three children, the eldest of which would be a shinobi. If it was a boy, he might name it after the old man, if the geezer decided to reveal it before he died.

But as the waves pounded relentlessly against the cliffside, he realized that he would have to think of a name for his son. The old man decided this was the place he would die, and that was it. It was, as he was very fond of saying: 'something that simply is'.

The young man sighed, looking at the shovel in his hand. Then he looked over at the horizon again, imagining the faraway lands that the old man often spoke of, the land of mountains, the land of water, maybe even eagle empire. The moon was above them too, and the waves beat against their shores as well. It was a good night to dig.

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><p>Sight, as the seers simply called it, was in practice very hard to distinguish from a high-level genjutsu. When they accessed it, their chakra would flare, and the world around them would slow to a standstill, an eerie blue glow descending over everything. Then the tapestry would rise from the ground, thousands upon thousands of strands creating the masterpiece that is existence. One had to have respect for something so <em>profound.<em>

It would show itself to him at random, giving glimpses into the future. Last time he gazed upon it was two years ago, when it showed him that he and the boy would go back to Iwa, thirteen years after the war that drove them out. He trusted the tapestry, and he knew the price of the ritual he was performing.

The candle flames swayed gently from the eastern wind, never quite faltering. Chakra was thick in the air, and the old man's quiet chanting grew louder. It was an ancient tongue passed down from father to son. He knew not what the words meant, but he knew their power, and he knew their price. The seal tattoo behind his ear pulsed in rhythm to the seal on the scroll laid out before the seer. It was an old seal, used to transfer thoughts directly to paper, usually meant for when you need to write something down quickly, or without the use of arms.

"Old man, can't you sing something catchier? How about 'The tale of the Seven Swords'?"

He barely heard him. The world has already begun to slow down. The dirt thrown up by the young man's shovel froze in the air beneath the tree branches, lingering like some kind of strange fruit. Blue light crept up, coating the world in an eerie glow. Strands rose from the earth, intertwining and stretching, taking the form of the tapestry of fate. Even his own words became quiet and distant, his lips moving automatically. A feeling of calm washed over him, his aged body feeling weightless.

Time lost its significance; he had all the time in the world, and his time had already run out.

Somewhere outside the seer's mind, the young man wiped the sweat from his brow, gazing lovingly at the hole he had dug. He was proud of himself, not many would dig a hole that looked this good. It was a magnificent hole, one he would be proud to toss the old man's corpse into. With his work done, he sat down, and reached for one of the many pockets in his robe. From it, he produced an old stone flute and began to play the song the old man stubbornly refused to sing.

_Oh have you heard of the swords of the seven, the blades of the mist?_

_One single cut sends you straight up to heaven, and those men do not miss..._

The melody went on, but he forgot the words. Unfazed, he kept playing until the song was done. There was something soothing about it, even if it was a tale about cold-blooded assassins. The old man knew the words for sure. Maybe he'd write them down too.

He sighed, putting the flute away. The waves called out to him, so he turned to watch them again. They too were soothing.

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><p>He saw the threads clearly. He saw them as they were, tangled and entwined, some longer and some shorter. Yet he knew that to do what he intends to, he needs to find <strong>the one<strong>. The thread that affects the lives of thousands. A thread...like _his._

Men like the yellow flash were born once in a generation. Men whose presence alone is enough to shape lives, to end wars. The seer still remembered the day he met him, it was the day he gained his sight. It was also the day the third great shinobi war ended.

He felt himself smile; the flash's thread was nearing its end, it was a matter of days? Weeks? He would not live to see another full moon. But that wasn't important, it was what came after that made the seer truly smile.

From the flash, a thread, so bright and entwined with the lives of hundreds...thousands... It was the thread that would shape the world. It was _his_ son, a boy who would become the nine-tailed fox's jinchuriki. This was the boy, the strand, that would realize the seer's ambitions.

The flash ended a war. The seer would end war.

A spectral hand reached out, tugging and moving the bright strand of fate, words burning into paper. He couldn't see the entire tapestry, yet he saw strands grow longer and brighter. He saw destinies change over the smallest of divergences. He didn't touch the boy...no. He changed the circumstances of the world around him. With every change, the strand in the possible tapestry grew brighter and stronger, more strands managing to touch it.

He was finished, he managed to change the world's future. Now the only thing that remained was to take one last look at the destiny he brought about...

But it wasn't meant to be. The seer looked on in calm apathy as his own strand reached its end, the light fading from it. His eyes were fixed on it, the future of the world just beyond what he could see. As the blue glow slowly faded into darkness, taking the light of the moon along with it, the old man would laugh at what his last thought was.

_Oh have you heard of the swords of the seven..._

Like that, the man's life ended, one more in the infinite tapestry of fate. But he was not insignificant. He made a difference.

He was the man who changed the world. He was the last seer.

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><p>There was a dull thump, and the chakra in the air disappeared. The young man sighed.<p>

The old man was dead. Now he had to throw his corpse into the beautiful grave, and he would have to pick up his list and read it, and he would read it until the sun shone on the cliffs in the land of crabs, until it was burned into his mind like the sound of creaking wood, like the feel of a shovel handle, like the melody of a song about killers.

Then he would wait until the time was right and check off whatever the old man wrote down on that scroll, no matter what it was, or how difficult it could be. He would do it. After all, it was the old man's final wish. He deserved that much.

He walked over, picking up the limp body, carrying it the few dozen steps to the hole he dug earlier, and tossed it in. There was a 'thump' sound, and the body simply stayed there, half-obscured by his shadow.

He could just use a jutsu and bury him, it would be fast, painless and tidy. He started shoveling again.

"You know, I could just ignore that little list of yours. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

The shovel was a gift, you see. When he met the old man, it was the most important day of his life. It was the end of the third great shinobi war, it was the day his family home was crushed under a massive earth-style jutsu, and it was his birthday.

He never asked where it came from, or why the old man gave it to him. He never said a thing when the old man taught him seals that would stop the shovel from deteriorating, seals that would enable it to disrupt chakra, seals that would make it always return whenever he threw it away.

He pondered the meaning of the shovel. It wasn't the best of tools, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't the best of weapons, but it worked in a pinch.

"Hey, listen old man, I finally got it. The shovel is a sign that I should bury my past, right?"

"..."

"Fuck you, old man."

As the dirt slowly covered the body, he noticed the prayer beads in the corpse's hand, sticking out awkwardly on the uncovered side. They were simple white beads, usually used to help focus one's mind on prayer or mantra. They were also stolen from a grave somewhere in the land of wind. That was a fun couple of months, the Suna shinobi sure had interesting gimmicks with puppets and all.

He bent down and tore the beads from the body's hand. It let go easily, it probably didn't care much for the beads after all. He also considered placing them around his neck immediately, but decided against it. After all, he wasn't finished burying the old man.

"You better wrote something interesting there. If you have me running from country to country leaving notes, I'll be so upset."

The old man didn't say a thing. Soon enough, the dirt covered the last of his body, and then filled out the rest of the once magnificent hole. The young man realized that he didn't have anything to mark the grave with. Then again, there was no one who would visit it anyway, so it wasn't that much of a loss.

"Alright, now I'll just take that scroll over there, and read it." And he did so.

He didn't expect it to be that...detailed. The scroll was filled from top to bottom with text, on both sides. Every action was explained to the smallest detail, connected to any other relevant action. Every piece of equipment was accounted for, every foreign factor, even the weather. He brightened up a bit, realization dawning on him.

"Well, at least I'll get to see the world..."

And there, at the very end, was a message from the old man. It was a simple sentence, devoid of any emotion or real meaning. It was just there, a sign that he recognizes the fact that he'd read the scroll, nothing more. No lyrics to 'The Tale of the Seven Swords'.

_Good luck_.

"Guess the ramen stand will have to wait..."

And with that, the young man turned the scroll over and began reading it again.

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><p><strong>A summary of what you can expect from this story, just so you know what you're getting:<strong>

**1. Naruto won't get anything he didn't get in canon, except some fuinjutsu. That doesn't mean he won't be strong, believe it!**

**2. Sasuke stays in Konoha. I'll do my best to keep him in character.**

**3. Characters will die. Some sooner, some later, some not at all. Some might even cheat death. Point is, if you're giving this story a chance, be ready for the possibility of big or popular characters taking a kunai in the knee (or heart, or liver, or lungs, or brain...).**

**4. Power levels will be evened out. Chunin simply won't be able to fight against S-Rank criminals, and said S-Rank criminals will actually deserve such infamy.**

**5. There will be OC's, but they will never actually take a main role in the story. They're just there to add flavor and life to the world of shinobi.**

**6. This story is better if you make the effort of imagining the scenes I try to transfer to the paper (or in this case, screen). It makes the whole thing way more enjoyable.**

**7. After this one, almost every chapter is more than 4000 words long.**

**8. I'll listen to suggestions. If you have something to say about this story, I'll listen.**

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><p><strong>Books:<strong>

**'Prologue': Seer**

**Book 1 - Zabuza **

**Interlude: Artists' Journey**

**Book 2 - Team 7**

**Book 3 - Chunin Exams**

**Interlude: Land of Whirlpools**

**Book 4 - Way of the Rasengan**

**Book 5 - Cherry Blossom**

**Interlude: Kazekage Gaara**

**Book 6 - Truth-Seeing Eyes**

**Book 7: Reunion**

**Book 8: Akatsuki**

**Book 9: Team 10**

**Book 10: Brotherhood**

**Book 11: The Three Sages**

**Book 12: Pain**

**Interlude: Blood Prison**

**Book 13: The Kage Summit**

**Book 14: 4th Great Shinobi War**

**Interlude: Road to Ninja**

**Book 15: Closing Acts**

**Book 16: Age of Peace**

**Epilogue: Eternity**


	2. Book 1 - Chapter 1

**You stuck around? Good. Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>BOOK ONE: ZABUZA<strong>

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><p>The land of waves was a small stretch of land at the southwest of the continent, mostly being the large island in the waves. The little bit of mainland they held was scarce better than the borderlands; rogue shinobi came and went, making trade and commerce from the mainland impossible.<p>

But the island was rich with resources, and its men were skilled fishermen. They prospered through the great wars, thriving as they fed the armies of Suna and Konoha. When it was all said and done, the land of waves was not much more than a land of peaceful merchants and fishermen.

Their problems usually bolted down to either the rogue shinobi, or bandits with similar intentions. However, the crafty people of the land persevered, finding alternate routes to ship and receive their goods, always managing to prosper, even in the least favorable of situations.

The land's peaceful days were gone however, with the emergence of the Gato company. The company, named after its wealthy owner forced its way into the land, getting by with violence where intimidation and bribes wouldn't work. The "Thugs" as the collective came to be called, regardless of their actual role in the company, became a presence on the island, slowly suffocating outgoing ships until finally none of the civilian ships went on commerce voyages. Most have even disappeared from the harbor.

People started growing restless, twitchy. The Thugs always got what they wanted, no matter how precious it was. The villagers thought they were lost, but then came along Kaiza, the hero of the village. He had stood up to the tyrant.

But even that wasn't enough. The wealthiest man in the five nations did not become such a man by playing fair and being nice.

Gato was not a nice man. In fact, anyone who knew him back when he was a nice man was now dead, sometimes on his order. Once upon a time, he had a family, a wife and a son. It was his dream to build them a house in the land of games, and live happily ever after, much like the characters from the stories that he loved as a child.

Yet destiny decided to treat his dream like trash, and Gato's life was crushed. He still had his company, he was still the most respected businessman in the great nations, but his family...

So he picked up what destiny left him, and vowed never to let it disappear like his old dream did. He'd have a new dream, to control this miserable world, to take away its happiness like it took away his. And he could do it, for Gato _was that good._

But what he personally lacked was power, the pure kind of power that shinobi wielded. He could not destroy those who stood in his way without power, so he was forced to buy it from the ninja. Lowlife mercenaries that took any job so long as the pay was adequate. Although it never shown, he hated every moment of dealing with the lot of them. Over time, however, he realized something important, the shinobi were just as mortal as he is, as his family was. It only took a clever mind to find an attack they could not evade.

"So, I take it this is adequate compensation for the services of the hidden grass?"

"Yes sir. Do not hesitate to call upon us again should you require our services again."

"Oh, don't worry, I never hesitate."

With a malicious grin, the short man brought the rain-issue mask to his face, hearing the clicking noise that signaled that the filters have begun working. The moment it was on, he pressed the button on the underside of his desk, flooding the room with a soft grey gas.

A muffled laugh rang out through the ground as the three chunin of the grass collapsed almost immediately, their twitching the telltale sign of the quality toxin Gato had procured. The ninja were dead, as all ninja should be. Although he never thought about it that way, his goal wasn't just to control the land. His goal was to remove the need for ninja. No amount of fire breathing or water walking mattered when you couldn't get food for the villagers.

In time, he would set his sights on the land of waves, a promising investment, were it not for a few troublesome individuals. Those people just didn't understand how the world worked. They believed in fairy tales such as happiness and heroes, and acted as if nothing would ever disrupt their peaceful, insignificant lives. The worst of all, however, was Kaiza.

The man was a lone fisherman, married to the daughter of another troublesome man. He came to the village as a stranger, becoming one of the villagers after some kind of incident. The people loved him ever since. However, no amount of love would save him when he made the mistake of standing up to the grow of the Gato company.

"What do you want to do with him boss?"

Gato looked at the man, head battered and bruised, the same headband most fishermen wore now stained with fresh red blood. He was a pathetic sight. But he was a symbol to those little people, and that made some differences in the way he'd be handled.

"I hear that you decided to protect this little island with your own two hands..."

He rubbed a finger across his chin repeatedly, thinking about how long it would take to clean the warehouse after the boys were through with him. Probably a dreadfully long time. He very quickly decided that the man was much too bothersome.

"Tell me, what would you do if perhaps you didn't have those two hands of yours?"

He gave a short nod, and two overly-eager looking men wandered over, heavy mauls in their heavy arms. With another nod, they kicked the man to the ground, and went about destroying every bone in those protective arms of his. Meaty cracks echoed through the warehouse, screams following each and every one.

"It isn't befitting of a hero to scream like that, you know. Even less so if you happened to die..."

He gave another nod, and two larger men rushed over to stop the two eager ones. The four thugs stood to the side of the ruined body of Kaiza, looks mildly bored and confused.

"Cut off his arms, and stick him in the square. That should give them an idea what happens to heroes." They did so. And Gato smiled, for he loved it when his tools worked properly.

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><p>The village of the hidden mist had a very rich history, riddled with various wars, both civil, and not-so-civil. However, all those wars had one thing in common, one thing that would later on give the village its second name. They were all very, very bloody in nature. It was common to see shinobi moving around the village with feet soaked in the blood that poured freely through the mist-obscured streets.<p>

In every one of those wars, it was the 'blessed' clans, those with special bloodline abilities, that got their hands and names sullied the most. The Yuki, the Kaguya, the Hozuki... all tools of war, pitted against each other and against the village. In time, people began to saw them as nothing more than an ill omen, a sign of impending death. They feared them, and from that fear came hate.

Some returned that hate, such as the Kaguya, and left their bones on the same bloody streets. Some fled, like the Yuki, leaving a trail of frozen gravesites as they moved across the land. The rest hid in plain sight, or perhaps in the mist.

After a while, the Sandaime passed away, his mantle taken by the young jinchuriki of Isobu, the three-tails. While his body passed away, his ideals lived on in the eternally-young Yagura; the value of strong, powerful shinobi, unburdened by trivial emotions, becoming an absolute rule. It was survival of the fittest, and not many had what it took to survive.

Even their academy students had to prove themselves by slaying the student closest to them. It was a bloody practice, but desensitizing could not be done more efficiently. For years, families dreaded the mandatory drafting of students, forced to deal with the fact that their child would either die, or become something less than human in four short years. Although the practice was fairly costly in terms of manpower, the shinobi it produced were finely honed killing machines, fiercely loyal to the mist, or more importantly, the Mizukage.

However, when a boy, the last member of the Momochi, a family whose naturally high chakra was mistaken for a bloodline, entered the academy graduation exam despite not being at graduation age, even the usually cold and composed Yagura had to discontinue it. The boy, Zabuza, killed a hundred students, as well as the single chunin assigned to watching over the exam. When the other teachers finally arrived to lead the graduating students away, they only saw the bone-chilling image of a demon hovering above the body of a boy, half-buried in the bodies of the would-be academy graduates.

The demon of the hidden mist, they called him. Prompted by his most trusted advisor, Yagura decided to include the boy in the seven swords project, personally handing him the seversword, Kubikiribocho. Years later, that same boy would attempt to take the Mizukage's life...

"Zabuza, are you ready?"

The man only glared at his follower, half-offended that he'd ask such a question. His body was ready, already producing the adrenaline he would undoubtedly need. His chakra was ready, whirling inside of him like the demon it sometimes appeared as. His mind was ready, the idea of slaying the Mizukage long accepted as the only way to save the mist. His hand was ready, clutching the handle of his blade.

With a nod, the demon disappeared in a shunshin, appearing on the side of the palace for only a moment before flickering away again. He dashed through the nigh-empty halls, aware that his comrades were fighting outside. Inside, he shouldn't run into too many problems. It would be a quick and painless job, rushing down the Mizukage while his mind was still too occupied with the day's paperwork. Even in the mist, procedure was god.

He pictured it in his head, felt the resistance the child's neck would provide as he cut through it, almost smelling the blood already. But it never happened, because it's never that easy.

"Ameyuri, Fuguki." He said with an indifferent tone. Before him stood two of his comrades, two fellow swordsmen.

Ameyuri Ringo wielded the Kiba, a pair of blades sharp enough to cut lightning. She would die that day, and her blades would be entrusted to Raiga Kurosuki, who would kill himself with a lightning bolt somewhere far away from the mist.

Fuguki Suikazan was the bulky wielder of the mighty Samehada, the most infamous of the seven blades. He would not die on that day, but sometime later, betraying the very words he preached, his sword ending up in the hands of his killer, Kisame Hoskigaki.

They were both _in his way._

Three legendary blades crashed, the fight less a matchup of skill than a match of determination. They were taught to flow like the water their village was named for, and they did. Their blades cried out for the blood the village was nicknamed after. Echoes rang through the palace halls as the bolts of the Kiba and the scales of Samehada ground against the blade of the Kubikiribocho. Though no matter now outmatched he might seem, Zabuza had a clear advantage; the swordsmen were taught to fight multiple enemies at once, but they were not taught to fight alongside each other. In truth, most of them hated each other.

Though any other ninja would rather face the Kiba over the terrifying Samehada, Zabuza himself much preferred clashing against the greatsword. Even if it could expand and devour chakra, it couldn't shoot lightning, and was blocked just as easily as the training swords arrayed in the courtyard below. After all, Zabuza could hold the Samehada himself, the 'demon' chakra apparently enough to pacify the otherwise ill-tempered weapon.

Fuguki wielded what was essentially a bastard sword, swinging it in wide circles, more intent on forcing his foe into a corner than actually hitting him. If he did land a hit, he'd make sure it would be just as the opponent was readying a chakra-intensive jutsu. It was a cheap tactic, for sure, but cheap was surprisingly good against the stuck up pricks that wore fire or cloud headbands. It had trouble against someone like Zabuza though, ending up deflected every time he intended to strike.

They did not use jutsu; no matter the circumstances, the Mizukage _absolutely despised_ having to wait on workers to rebuild his palace. Usually, neither the workers or the one responsible would live long after doing something that forced him to wait.

Soon enough, Zabuza was being forced back. He was running out of moves, and it was only a matter of time before the Kage caught on to what was actually happening outside. No matter how dulled the mind was from paperwork, a Kage was a Kage for a reason. Still, Zabuza had his blade, and he knew the blades of his opponents. Deflecting a otherwise killing blow from the Samehada, he guided the ravenous sword to Ameyuri, his lips curling into a smile as the lighting around her blades slowly fizzled out.

The hallway they fought in led to the Mizukage's office. On 'peaceful' days, it would be overflowing with mist shinobi, going to and from the missions desk. Clerks would haul heavy bags filled with money over to the village vaults, as the missions the mist took were very rarely simple C-rank jobs. Now the hall stood dark and empty, walls distorted from slashes and thunderbolts. The saltwood flooring creaked under their heavy steps, wide gashes in it barely visible in the low light.

The demon disappeared in a shunshin, something generally not done in an intense fight, due to the heavy toll it takes on one's chakra reserves. Yet for him, it wasn't much of a bother; he naturally had the chakra of three men, and used it to his advantage. With a splash of water, he appeared behind the sole Kunoichi of the swordsmen, his blade already swinging towards her. It connected, the blade just quick enough to strike flesh rather than a substitution.

There was a meaty "thump" sound, and the body of the Ringo clan's most successful kunoichi almost instantly went limp, the seversword reaching all the way to her spine. Although it didn't look like it, it was a silent killing.

With a forceful pull, he dislodged his blade, only narrowly ducking under Fuguki's attack. Ameyuri crumpled unceremoniously to the ground, one of her blades flying away into a dark corner. For a moment, regret flared in the demon's heart, only to quickly die to an even more uncommon emotion.

"Traitor."

Zabuza panicked. He did not usually panic. He was one of the most crafty and level-headed of the swordsmen, famed for his expertise with the silent killing and the hiding in mist. But on that day, as he parried the Samehada for the final time almost automatically, the blood of his comrade dripping from his blade, Zabuza Momochi was scared. The child Mizukage, Yagura stood in the doorframe, eyes glimmering with an ominous yellow. Corals had formed on the tips of his fingers, and he held his signature hooked staff in his right hand. The flower was there, glowing yellow as well.

Before his mind could react, his body straightened itself, aligning the eight inner gates in a single line. He was never aware of that, even if it was the reason his mist was so much stronger than any of the other swordsmen. As his chakra became water, flowing from his skin and turning to mist, he could only think of one thing. He had failed. The coup would fail, and many more would die. The bloody mist would once again live up to its name.

Zabuza ran.

* * *

><p>Outside, things did not go much better. Many loyalists died to the initial attack, but after managing to regroup, their sheer numbers, in addition to the presence of three swords, very quickly dwindled the revolutionaries' numbers. They fought well, but the loyalists, perhaps inspired by the presence of the swords, fought better. To the mist, that was just another particularly bloody Tuesday. Zabuza appeared among his men for a moment, yelling for a retreat. It was too little, too late.<p>

The Isobu crashed out of the Mizukage's palace, spewing colossal water bullets at the shinobi, not really telling friend from foe. War had returned to the mist, and it would once again flood the streets with blood and water. Very soon, what was already a losing battle became certain death as the eternal demon of the water rampaged through the village, destroying homes and lives much like the bloodline families did in the time of the third.

It was to protect the village from the violent uprising. It was for their own safety, thought Yagura. Isobu agreed, but that wasn't saying much, as the three-tails rarely ever disagreed with his jinchuriki.

Sure, Kumo would flaunt their two tailed beasts around, but the stone had just as many, with the waterfall, of all the villages, not far behind, having a almost controlled one as well. What the Mizukage didn't know was that only a few weeks from then, the jinchuriki of the Nanabi would die to a poison, only for the beast to be resealed into an eight-year old orphan.

The Isobu roared, destroying whatever the two of them perceived as hostiles. Slowly, the village began to flood, the usual mist dispersed by such a large flare of chakra. It curled into a ball, lazily rolling through something that looked a lot like residential houses, carefully watching for any further signs of hostile activity.

After a while, the dust settled, and Yagura sighed. The demon did his work, ruining the village much like the wars from the days of the third. He cursed the day he decided to give him the kubikiribocho, just like he cursed his advisor. Why wasn't he here now? What 'business' did he have in the rain? It would take months to undo the damage of this one night.

He stood at the largest square in the village, face wearing a childish look of amusement. Water poured down the streets, the stars above hidden behind layers of clouds. Chakra lingered in the air, as it often did after battles like these. Medic-nin dashed to and fro, desperately trying to keep as much of the village's fighting force alive; after all, the soldiers there were family members, friends. A jonin with a thick cerulean bandana appeared at the Mizukage's side, his face frozen in a look of disgust.

"What's the damage, Gaishiki?" Asked the boy-in-appearance, his hands tucked innocently behind his back.

"Estimated around a hundred casualties, lord Mizukage. We have also lost Ameyuri Ringo, the wielder of the Kiba."

This much he knew, having seen her corpse in the hall where Zabuza was stopped by his fellow swordsmen.

"As for property damage, most of the market is a flooded ruin, as well as a large chunk of the western residential district." Spoke the jonin. '_And most of the damage to that was done by the Isobu's rampage, rather than Zabuza's uprising', _he almost added, but bit back the words.

"Right. Dismissed."

A ways off, on top of a cliff, stood the leader of the uprising, a young, pale boy at his side. They had known each other for about a year now, each guarding the other's secrets. Even as the boy watched the home of his ancestors crumble in the battle of two demons, he could only feel happiness, as he was at the man's side. He did not care about the lands and treasures of the Yuki clan, they meant nothing to him, as he never really had them. Why worry about losing something you never even had?

Unlike the boy, the swordsman was worried. He had failed at assassinating the child Mizukage, and that complicated things. Not only was he forced to take the life of a comrade, but he was forced out of his home, the very place he fought for. And even as the village was crushed underneath the three-tails, he could only feel a distant pity, as if it was not really happening. But it was happening, and he simply couldn't afford to care right now.

"...and I will take possession of this country."

The country, the land of water. It was his ultimate goal to set it free from the tyrannical rule of the child Mizukage. For Zabuza's loyalty lied not with the Kage, but the village and the land itself. He had so many times felt the blood of the land on his hands, on his feet. He tasted it on his tongue and watched it glisten on the edge of his blade. He did not want the land to bleed anymore, and he intended to cut away the illness.

The mist slowly returned, hanging over the village like a shroud. Even on the cliffs, the air tasted like iron. On the horizon, the sun slowly began to rise.

"Come Haku, we are leaving."

* * *

><p>Zabuza reflected on his past, on the circumstances that led him into this vile den of an still more vile little man. It was a chain of misfortunes, miscalculations, mistakes. Sometimes he thought about giving up. But at night, he would dream of the mist, and his resolve would not falter. He would try again, no matter the cost, no matter the circumstance. He would work with scum like the little man, Gato.<p>

"The Demon of the Hidden Mist, you say? What an intimidating name. One could imagine what you had to do to earn it..."

Gato was amused. He sent out for rogue ninja, assassins, and his men came up with these two. The sullen, pale figure with the massive blade was a broken shell of a shinobi, but even broken, they could stick a man with a knife, and that was enough. But the price he demanded was quite high...

On the other hand, the boy, who Gato mistook for a girl at start, reminded him of the boy he once had as a son. He too was kind and pure, stuck with a dangerous man as a father. He wouldn't last long with this excuse for a man, he'd end up a corpse on the roadside sooner or later.

The two together hardly looked like assassins. In fact, the two bodyguards behind Gato appeared more deadly than the two clowns. And those men were borderline retarded, as the businessman intended them to be. He needed sharp blades, not sharp minds. He did just fine with just his own.

"So I believe this will be an agreeable sum for your services?" The small man said, bringing up a small sheet of paper with a number disproportionately large for such a surface. The two ninja looked satisfied, good. Let the fools do the fool's work, and he'll just have to clean up the mess later. It was cheaper than actually taking care of the problem himself.

"It's a real pleasure doing business with you, Gato." Said the swordsman, his voice sickeningly sweet and fake. He barely bothered hiding his contempt for the man. Were he not so incredibly rich, he would never stoop so low as to associate himself with scum like this. But he was running out of options, so he hardly had a choice.

"Zabuza, can we leave now? I do not wish to be in this foul man's presence any longer than necessary." Haku said innocently, fully aware at the weight of the insult. A part of him knew that Zabuza would be pleased with it. Gato, on the other hand, was not amused in the least. Blood rushed to his face as he struggled to keep himself from simply ordering his bodyguards to eradicate the filthy shinobi and be done with it. They would get theirs...

"That's no way to speak with one's employer, Haku. You know that." Said Zabuza dispassionately, his feet itching to start moving as far as possible from the den they brought him to. He had half a mind to indulge them immediately, but some things are drilled into you as a mist shinobi, and you respect those things. Proper procedure was one.

Gato grinned, looking almost too eager to use the opening. "Yes boy, you should listen to what your master says. He didn't become the big bad demon by being disobedient." Zabuza looked indifferent, but a part of him yearned to see the man's guts spread all over the filthy floor. Haku had a similar opinion, only his was more artistic, with a crystal-clear shard of ice imagined lodged into the businessman's small, grinning head.

The two shinobi, for they were shinobi, even if one was a missing-nin and the other a small boy, made their way out of the dark, cramped little office, and quickly found their way back to the surface.

"It fits, a rat hiding deep under the earth, doesn't it?" Offered Haku as he placed his hunter-nin mask to cover his face once again. He did not really like to wear it, but it made acting as a shinobi easier. It wasn't _him_ doing those things, it was the shinobi he would become.

The mainland of the land of waves was not very interesting, littered with stony beaches and coastal flora. The flimsy trees almost howled in the late night wind, the sky above was a dark blue blotch.

Zabuza absently pulled a scroll from his pouch, unsealing the jacket he was issued for his first and only mission to the land of snow. If they reached a village of any kind, he'd seal away the kubikiribocho, and Haku would lose the mask. Stealth was important, but so was blending in with the civilian population.

For some reason, he felt that this job wasn't going to turn out as intended. For a moment, he wanted to pause and consider if dealing with the likes of Gato was really worth it. Almost immediately, he discarded the thought. He was fighting for his dream of freeing the village. He would do _anything._

* * *

><p><strong>Enjoyed it? Good.<strong>


	3. Book 1 - Chapter 2

**CurrentlyOccupied: I'm glad that the first review this story got was this positive. Don't worry, I'm writing this story long term, and I'm going to keep true to what I've said.**

**Also, this is the last appearance of the (young) man in this book.**

* * *

><p>Somewhere in the land of waves, on a hilltop covered with flowers, stood a young man. It was early morning, and many of the plants on that field were best picked in the first hours daylight. The area was distant from the nearby inhabited village, quiet and serene. However, its destiny was to be ruined as a sight of battle.<p>

The young man, his garb scarcely changed over the many years, stood on the edge of the clearing, looking into the distance. As it did before, his shovel rested in his hand, the number of seals on its handle having jumped from six to nine. He had long given up on his dream to open up a ramen stand in Iwa, for the woman he intended to marry had already been taken. The idle fantasy he named as his dream these days was to write down his considerable knowledge of fuinjutsu and publish it throughout the ninja nations, all with the goal of bettering lives of Shinobi everywhere.

In seven minutes and forty seven seconds, as indicated by the scroll, with which he couldn't part after all, his target would arrive to the field, intending to gather up herbs for concocting medicines and poisons from the Mizu school. He was a survivor of the exterminations, a down-and-out kid with nothing to live for. Nothing except the man who took him in.

Ever since he saw his name in the scroll the old man left him, the young man followed the actions of the demon of the mist, up until his attempt of a coup collapsed four years ago. Many died that day, and many more would if the flow of time had not been corrected. The man who had once slaughtered a hundred of his peers was to be saved, and it all started with the young boy who would be arriving in four minutes and twenty three seconds.

While he didn't really want to fight the kid, the scroll said that it is necessary, and indicated that the boy relies on speed, accuracy with senbon, and his kekkei genkai. It would be an easy fight. The kid might be good, but the young man believed that he was easily jonin level by now. Officially, he was a dead genin. It was funny now that you think about it. A dead ninja will be fighting against a ninja who isn't really a ninja. For all its seriousness, the shinobi life sometimes had its comical moments.

Way off, barely visible, the boy slowly came to view, dressed in a wide reddish kimono. In his hand was a basket, not deep enough to store anything more than herbs. He walked with a subdued but sure step, looking as if he was nothing more than a common village boy out to gather herbs for the apothecary. That alone was a telling sign of his training as a ninja.

Haku wasn't expecting anything extraordinary to happen that morning. He got into his civilian clothes, took his basket, and went for a herb-rich hill that he spied a few days beforehand. Zabuza would be busy with other affairs, the most pressing of which was finding out which route the bridge builder would be taking on his way back to his village. Although he didn't look the part, the demon of the mist was very skilled at intelligence gathering, even when working alone.

No matter how many times he would offer to help, the same words would always be waiting as the response: "No Haku, it's much more important for you to keep honing your abilities." And they would always leave it at that. He did not want to go against Zabuza's wishes, for that would be going against his own purpose; being an instrument of his will.

The morning was chilly, but would soon become pleasantly warm. Although they were a ways off the coast, the salty air of the sea of waves made its way to the clearing. The hill was covered in colorful flowers, colors vibrant in the early sun. Were this not such a dangerous territory, Haku had no doubt this very clearing would be the site of many children's games. He had only begun playing his games when his childhood came to an early end. A part of him would always regret that, but he couldn't have known. He never knew that his unusual talent was so hated and feared. When he did find out, it was too late.

He shook his head. This was a field of flowers, no place to remember such dark memories. It's better now, he is at Zabuza's side, and soon they would have the money required to go back to the Land of Water. It was only a matter of time until they would go back and...kill. Yes, they would go back to the Village hidden in the Mist and they would kill its Mizukage. He interrupted himself once he realized that the train of thought was not really any more fitting to the flowery field than the former one.

He smiled, taking his first step onto the hilltop colored by flowers.

* * *

><p>The robed ninja smirked, a giddy eagerness washing over him. Something about the boy told him that the battle would be interesting. Even after all these years, he could not decide exactly what that feeling was. He considered just leaping out and attacking, but that would not be the most effective way to engage, considering his goal. Instead, he simply walked towards the boy.<p>

He was going into this underequipped, with both a weapon and ninjutsu disadvantage. The boy had senbon and access to Ice Style jutsu. He had a shovel. And years of experience as a mercenary, but that wasn't really going to help him. Ice operated completely different than the elements it was derived from. It had the cutting power of air, the flexibility and speed of water, as well as a reflective quality that the main branch of the Yuki was known to abuse against Lightning and Gale Style users.

He didn't care, save for a few choice jutsu, his style was earth through and through. The boy wasn't half bad, noticing him the instant he left his cover. However, his decision not to react to a randomly approaching stranger was intriguing to the young man. Maybe he intended to lure him into a trap?

As he approached, he didn't bother concealing the shovel in his hand, only making a motion to raise the brim of his hat. Underneath, he already had a friendly expression on. The boy reacted to his presence when he was only half a dozen steps away.

"Oh?" The boy raised his eyes, looking up at the approaching stranger. He did not appear dangerous at first glance, but his timing and body language spoke of ulterior motives. Still, he could not act until he knew exactly why the man had approached him. "Why hello there." The stranger looked disappointed.

"Is there anything wrong?" He asked, regretting that he brought only two cartridges of senbon. If the danger he's sensing is real, the supply wouldn't last in a prolonged battle. What's worse, nothing about the potential foe told him anything about his abilities. The shovel in particular served only to confuse him.

"Oh, nothing really, I was just going to ask you to tell me where Zabuza Momochi is." The reaction was immediate. The underside of the flower in the boy's hand glistened with a metallic shine, and the blade of the shovel was just on time to intercept what would be a hit to the bottom of the left lung by a senbon. Debilitating for sure, but not lethal. He'd feel breathless long enough for the boy to either kill him, or withdraw, depending on his preference.

The Yuki child leapt backwards, completely abandoning the basket, getting another half dozen steps of distance between them. His eyes were focused and clear, almost a complete opposite of the dreamy gaze he wore while acting as a civilian. He had to admit, the kid was a gem in the rough. And he was quick.

Cracking his neck and shoulders, the man smiled, fingers dancing across the blade of his shovel. He had to bust up the kid, throw around some moves that could realistically threaten the demon of the mist, and then somehow disengage. It was a simple task, but the execution was going to be anything but.

"You know, the bounty is just on the demon, but I think that the village would be thrilled if I brought a Yuki as well. You certainly look the part, girlish beauty and all." He threw himself to the side to dodge the barrage of senbon thrown towards him. It was a waste of ammo, but the kid really didn't have anything else to retaliate with. Right now, the fight was completely neutral.

"Nice shot kid. But let me show you what a real attack looks like." And with that, he dashed to the left, sending a couple of shuriken towards the young shinobi. They didn't really hit their mark, deflected by the use of a particularly large senbon. If he recalled the tool correctly, needles that large were used against armor wearing opponents, or as substitutes when basic kunai weren't available.

Haku wasted no time in dashing into his opponent's path, aiming to knock him off his feet with a swift kick. The attack landed square on the surface of the shovel blade, now half-embedded in the earth, knocking it back a bit. The man seemed amused if anything.

"Yeah, I think I like your style. But where do the cool Ice jutsu come in?" With that said, he spun around in an attempt to connect with a vicious backhanded slap. For a moment, Haku considered using the opening to stick a needle into his arm, but his aim wouldn't be sure, and the blow wouldn't be cushioned in the least. In the end, he decided to duck low and try the exposed legs again.

A shadow of surprise came across the mysterious ninja's face, as he leapt up to avoid the attack, landing on the opposite side of the shovel once more. Although unorthodox, the weapon was proving to be more effective than Haku expected it to be. Its owner kept smirking. "Tsk, tsk. What a troublesome child. At least indulge me with some friendly life-or-death banter."

"I have nothing to say to you. You will not reach Zabuza." The boy spoke with a surprisingly firm voice, right before dashing away with almost untraceable speed. In moments, he was across the clearing, dashing towards the nearby ponds. Defeating this enemy would require using jutsu, and Zabuza taught him never to waste chakra creating water if he can find some nearby. The strange shinobi, on the other hand, had other ideas, his arms working through thirteen hand signs. Thirteen was his personal record, and he didn't intend on attempting to break it today.

"Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet."

From his mouth gushed an obscene amount of water, taking a form of a dragon. The watery beast made a motion to mimic a roar while it stabilized itself, then began rushing towards the withdrawing shinobi.

In the hands of a water user, the dragon is near-instant. Although shortening the number of seals makes it come out faster, it shaves off power. Even someone as skilled as the second Hokage needed to work through the forty-something seals to fire off his strongest dragon. That particular beast was used only once, to very devastating effect.

Haku leapt up, letting the dragon home in on him. It wasn't his first time facing this jutsu, and all the elemental dragons behaved in a similar manner. As he descended, he immediately bolted back towards his increasingly troublesome foe, letting the dragon disperse without hitting anything. As he ran, the young shinobi made a couple of hand signs, and the water began to follow him in spurts and spirals.

Across the clearing, the man smirked once more. This battle was entertaining. Not really dangerous, but not a complete walkover either. The kid had potential, and that was hard fact. However, the mission is yet to be complete, so maybe it was time to see just how good the kid is...

* * *

><p>"Water Style: Water Serpent Bullet."<p>

The lesser version of the destructive bullet technique formed in the water, staying on top the wave for a few moments before shooting forward like an arrow. It aimed to crush the strange man, ending his existence and threat to Zabuza. However, the man was no pushover, already slamming his hands into the ground.

"Earth Style: Mud Wall." And on command, a large chunk of earth rose from the ground, almost completely absorbing the lesser water jutsu. However, a surprise followed in the form of several senbon sticking out of the wrong side of the protective wall. Apparently, the kid used the jutsu as a means to get his needles through the defense. He had to admit it was a decent idea.

He jumped up onto the large glob of mud, the defensive chakra preventing him from sinking into the mess. After deflecting another barrage of needles, he found himself staring the young boy down. He was fighting better than shinobi his age could. Not even specialized training made someone _this_ persistent.

"You know you're outmatched, boy. Why do you keep fighting?"

Haku's eyes narrowed at the question, the response itching to jump out. He indulged it, getting in stance to prepare one of his unique techniques. "I fight for Zabuza. He is the one who saved me when I lost everything. Were it not for him, I would be nothing. Now I have purpose."

'Lost everything...purpose... That's something like the old man did for me, wasn't it?' Wondered the young man. He gave him a goal to work towards, a shovel to fight with, and a jutsu to keep his body vital and young while his mind aged at an increased pace. His greatest concern was that it would kill him before he got everything done from the old man's list, and before he could publish his book.

But it was interesting. The kid had an old man in Zabuza, the same way he did with the actual old man. Yes, it was definitely interesting, something he never came across for these years. He needed to ask him more, to understand why. Maybe then he would be able to understand why he's still doing this, why he didn't throw away the scroll years ago.

"Your purpose? But what will happen when I kill him? What will you do with yourself then?" He asked seriously, jumping down from the wall. The boy seemed to hesitate before sending another barrage of needles, as easily deflected as the first. "Tell me boy, what will you do then?"

Haku made a few one-handed seals, then drove the other hand into the puddle that was once a water dragon and a whirling wave. The water immediately rushed forward, creeping all the way up to the man's feet.

"Ice Style: Thousand Needle Creeping."

Almost instantly the water began freezing over, sharp spikes violently bursting from the icy stream. As if guided by an invisible force, the numerous ice needles raced towards the shovel-wielding shinobi, most lodging themselves into the wall he once more used as cover. But as the ice reached the wall, it stopped giving off more needles, the jutsu fizzling out. The man made a hand seal.

"Come on kid, you're telling me that you've been out and about training with Zabuza Momochi all these years, and this is the best you can do?"

Just as he said that, the mud wall collapsed, revealing a massive block of ice, frozen needles blossoming from the surface. With a crack, dozens of sharp ice needles shot at the man, intent on turning him into ribbons. He spun away, but only quickly enough to avoid the brunt of the attack. Quite the number of needles found themselves lodged in his side and back, his old cloak once again turned into tatters. He hated when people messed up his cloak.

"He chose to use me as his tool because of this power that is in my blood. I will say this once more," Spoke Haku as he maneuvered into position at what was now the man's blind spot, "You will not reach Zabuza."

"We'll see about that!" Yelled the man as he turned around, shovel swinging in his outstretched hand. If Haku had gone straight in, he'd take a nasty bonk to the head. Instead, he threw the last barrage of senbon he had, all the while working his single-hand hand signs. "Ice Style: Frozen Lake." On cue, the soaked ground began spreading, then icing over, creating what was effectively a large ice rink. After this, there was only one technique left to finish this difficult foe once and for all.

"Alright kid, you did good. But it's time to stop messing around. I have a job to do. Earth Style: Earth Flow Spears!" And he slammed his hands to the now frozen ground, pushing chakra into the rocky subsurface of the earth. After a few moments, you could feel a faint rumble. Spikes began shooting up from the ground, popping up all around the already ruined field. There were dozens, maybe a hundred earth spears, and not one managed to nick the kid. Good, he wanted to do that part himself.

With a dash, the man appeared at Haku's side, taking a swing at his head with his unorthodox weapon. The younger shinobi dodged, only to be hit with a strong frontal kick. The figure that had swung the shovel now faded away, revealing itself to be little more than a simple clone. Before the boy could retaliate, however, the older shinobi was already trying another attack, the blade of the shovel burying itself into the ground where only moments earlier lied the boy's head.

"Oh stand still, would you?" Taunted the man, feinting a kick. Due to the obvious telegraphing of the move, Haku had ample time to get out of the way, only to be hit by one of the follow-up shuriken. He brought his hand to his now flaring cheekbone, feeling the warm blood trickling. It wasn't a deep gash, but it was visible. Next time he probably wouldn't be that lucky.

The man once again dashed forward, intent on bludgeoning him to death with the crude weapon. Haku dodged easily, his reflexes and speed enough to completely avoid such a linear series of attacks. What worried him was the follow-up trick that was inevitably following. After hopping over a low attack, Haku was faced with an incoming fist. Instead of blocking or avoiding, however, he captured the opponent's hand.

"Now."

Controlling the pressure points on the man's hand, Haku formed the necessary hand signs for his most lethal technique. "Ice Style: Demonic Crystal Ice Mirrors."

The man expected this, although he didn't let that show. Now the only thing that was left was to escape without killing the kid. That should be easy enough...Right? But when the array of mirrors rose up from thin air, and when Haku's tired image appeared in every single one, holding his last remaining, oversized senbon, even he had the presence of mind to feel intimidated. Still, he immediately swung for the nearest mirror.

"Please withdraw, I do not wish to end your life." Spoke the boy, appearing in the man's blind spot, swiftly stabbing the senbon into his left shoulder, making the entire arm go numb. Just as quickly, he disappeared, once again an image in the mirrors.

"Withdraw, eh? Not an option I'm afraid." And so the man tried again, his strikes doing nothing but merely denting the crystallized ice. Every strike was an opening, and Haku used the openings, eventually managing to disable the man's other arm as well. The strange man bent down to pick up his shovel with his mouth.

"Just give up. Next time I won't hesitate to end your life."

The man said nothing, driving a kick into one of the mirrors. As expected, nothing happened, and Haku leapt to the spot right behind him. He truly regretted what he was about to do, but it was to protect Zabuza, and for him he would be the shinobi that can carry out the swordsman's will. Free of hesitation, the young shinobi jammed the senbon into the back of the man's neck.

The man yelped in pain, only to turn into stone and crumble. Haku's eyes widened in realization; it was a rock clone. The real one would then be...

"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet." The mud dragon roared, crashing into the mirrors, covering the little gaps the technique left. What was a dazzling array of crystalline mirrors was now little more than a muddy dome.

The man smirked. His mission was complete. He pushed the child to his limits, and managed to get a visible hit in on him. That was what the scroll had required, and that was now done. Although a part of him didn't think the kid could use such an effective technique, years of experience told him that it was a good idea to swap out with a rock clone while he was obscured by the mud wall, and then promptly retreat while the boy was busy with his ice jutsu. Although he was glad that his rock clones only broke on fatal wounds, holding them together through the minor bumps was a massive drain of chakra, and he was left feeling exhausted.

With a satisfied sigh, the man withdrew from the ravaged field, disappearing into the ground.

* * *

><p>His foe was a clone all along? What kind of shinobi can sustain a solid clone for so long? It was almost as unlikely as using dozens of clones at once. The chrakra reserves required were simply absurd. Knowing that such a man was after Zabuza was worrying. He fought him off this time, but the man surely had more tricks up his sleeve; he was just testing the water with this confrontation.<p>

Haku dashed back towards the safe house, praying that Zabuza had not been attacked in the mean time by a possible accomplice of the shovel-wielding bounty hunter. He was strong, but so was his opponent. Haku had no illusions when it came to Zabuza. He was strong, but stronger shinobi did exist.

He reached the safe house, half his face covered in blood, his kimono roughed up and dirty, and his supply of senbon thoroughly emptied. Zabuza was seated at the balcony, looking over towards the sea. So the bounty hunter didn't have an accomplice. That was good.

"Zabuza, you're alright!" Haku let out, the fatigue only now catching up to him. He looked terrible, felt only slightly better than he looked, but he was glad, glad that he had managed to fight off the man who threatened Zabuza. The swordsman looked at him with a mildly amused look.

"Got in a scuffle over a pretty flower?" He asked, his voice even an clear, no hint of mockery to it. He wondered what could have happened to the boy to have him look like this. Most likely a hostile ninja.

"A strange ninja inquired about your whereabouts Zabuza. I fought him off, but he did manage to get away." Admitted Haku, slightly disappointed with the fact that his foe had gotten away. In his desire to protect Zabuza, he had forgotten to attempt and find out who had sent the man after the swordsman.

"Alright, tell me about your battle."

After an hour, in which Haku not only told the entirety of his story, but managed to get cleaned up and changed as well, the two mist assassins sat on the balcony of their safe house, different kinds of frown on each of their faces. Zabuza was worried about the man's apparent knowledge about them. He asked Haku about his reason for fighting, which no other enemy bothered to ask. That alone meant that this mysterious foe knew a lot more than any of the ones that came before him. Haku, on the other hand, couldn't let go of the fact that he had failed to get information on the man's motives. He was trained better than that, and regretted failing Zabuza the way he did.

"Your cheek. He had managed to cut you." Mentioned the swordsman offhandedly, as if the feat the shovel-wielding bounty hunter had accomplished was nothing more than a common occurrence. No one managed to hit Haku, he was too fast. He was trained not to get hit.

Reflexively, the boy's fingers went up to the fresh wound once more. It was another failure, another sign that he isn't yet the shinobi he needs to be in order to be worthy of standing at the demon's side. He needed to get stronger, quicker, less merciful. 'There is no place for mercy on the battlefield' was one of the swordsman's more common sayings.

"I am sorry Zabuza. I was too weak to protect you."

The swordsman sighed, standing up to start wrapping the bandages he always wore around his mouth whenever he went out to fight or gather information. He wondered what would happen if Haku had died that day. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he had grown attached to the boy who was willing to be the ultimate tool for his use. Losing him would be a major blow to Zabuza's progress in returning to the mist.

However, with this caliber of foe being sent after him this soon, injury was a very real possibility. He needed to find a particular kunoichi, and he had an idea of where she would be.

* * *

><p><strong>Was the fight any good? Next chapter is the showdown on the great Naruto bridge. <strong>


	4. Book 1 - Chapter 3

**The land of Waves arc is by far my personal favorite in the entire series, bested only by the Kazekage rescue arc (and that's only because of Sasori and Gaara, who are both my favorites). The sheer quality of the two mist assassins characters, as well as their impact on the lives of team 7 is astounding.**

* * *

><p>The first decade of Haku's life was spent in a peaceful and often snowy village at the north of the land of water. The village itself was fairly remote, mostly serving as a rest stop for travelers heading for the great port at the north. It was a place where conflict was lacking and the people were warm like the hearths of their homes. Still, if threats arose, the people would gather up and beat them back. Soon enough, the village was forgotten by bandits, deemed as too much trouble for its worth.<p>

The children were artists in the snow, the village commonly decorated with various lifelike statues made of solid snow, or more rarely, ice. Some did not have the time to play, busy helping their families with nurturing the crops in the snow, or going out to the lake in order to fish. Some would never act as children, silently growing into the elderly villagers that walked through the village every day, giving gleeful youngsters a smile or the occasional freshly caught fish.

Haku's mother was one of the people who just appeared in the village one day, only to be accepted as a native almost the same day. She was kind and gentle, the neighbors being able to attest to the fact that she had never raised her voice in her life. She did not need to, as her life suited her fine. She had a husband she loved, a sweet little boy named Haku, and a village to call home. She believed that her legacy would fade as the long winters passed. She believed that her family would be happy forever.

Among the village children, the young Haku was always known for his different look and mild manners. The kids found it funny to tease him that he looked like a girl, something he never really took offense to. Still, there were some strange things about the boy. He could walk on ice without ever slipping once, even when more sure-footed adults would manage to lose their balance; he would stop building his snowman in the evening, dream of it being slowly completed, and wake to see that the snowman was indeed created, save for the accessories. People just thought it was a coincidence.

One day, as he played around with the well in the back of their field, he noticed something really fun; If he wanted to make the water splash, it would splash, without him having to touch it. He was amazed, he played for hours, first making the water swirl and bubble, then making it crawl up the walls of the well. After a while, he took a bubble of water in his hands, and ran off to show his new trick to his mother. Instead of praise, he had received a slap.

Raising a hand against her own child was painful. As the sharp snap of skin meeting skin rang out across the yard, she could feel the fire spread on her own cheek as well. What little solace from the fact that the child learned the danger of that power, she took, kneeling down and slowly, quietly, explaining the origin of their family.

As she did so, a man stood right behind the corner, frozen in place by the weight of the truth that his wife has kept hidden from him for so long. Something inside of him grew cold. It was his duty to protect his home from any threat that may appear. His only regret was that the threat came from his own wife and son...

However, the man was a good actor. He hid the fact that he knew his wife's secret well, and lived the rest of the week feigning ignorance. It was his responsibility, but he knew that he could not do it alone. His colleagues helped spread the word, keeping the date of their gathering hidden from anyone who might let the truth slip too early. Almost overnight, the entire village was aware of the two monsters in their midst.

One night, they simply gathered in front of the man's house. They were there just in case something went terribly wrong, no one really believed that they'd have to interfere. It was his own fault for bringing those threats into their village, and as it stood, it'd be his duty to rid the village of them. But when they heard the piercing shriek of his wife, their feet moved on their own.

Haku didn't know what to feel. In his head and heart, so many complicated emotions came together and mixed, the only coherent one of the lot managing to come to the forefront of his mind - fear. He had loved his mother, and he had loved his father. He was sad to realize that his mother was no more, as he realized what had happened. He was feeling guilty because of what he had done, guilty over his childish desire to show off something so dangerous. He was feeling confused about why his father had done what he knew he had done. He was afraid. He didn't know what to do.

When the figure of his father had appeared in the doorframe, tears flowing from his eyes and blood dripping from his knife, the world had gone dark to one of the few remaining Yuki. The room became cold, and screams filled the night. He felt something strange right below his heart flaring like an overworked muscle, and he saw his reflection in the ice.

Where did the ice come from?

* * *

><p>Three days have passed since then. The boy had kept running as far as he could, reaching the next village down the road. To those cold people, he was nothing but another orphan left alone by the civil wars. They guided him to the orphanage just like they did with every other one. The young woman there did her best to keep all of them fed and warm, but the winter was harsh, and not many had supplies to spare. Most days, they'd get a broth, only rarely getting something solid such as fish.<p>

The other children never really tried to approach the new kid. He looked scared and sad, and he didn't hide it like they did. They all knew the hardships, but they stayed strong for each other. This newcomer couldn't understand that. Instead, the boy would disappear after breakfast, only returning as the sun set. The young woman worried about the boy, but with so much things needing to be done to keep the orphanage going through the rough season, she simply never could spare the time.

Haku was lonely most of all. His family and his village seemed so far away now. He ran for so long, who knows where they are now. He was all alone in this new place. The kids didn't want to have anything to do with him, and the woman was always too busy dealing with something else. If he were to disappear, no one would bat an eye. No one in this world needed him anymore.

Five days from then, on the same bridge where he spent his days, the young boy would meet a demon.

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><p>The Hideout was in the village itself, but the two men kept themselves hidden well, the swordsman tending to his minor wounds and planning his next and final encounter with Kakashi of the Sharingan. He had figured out how his little copycat act worked, and he would be ready for it. He would teach the Konoha jonin to respect the name of the 'Demon of the Mist'.<p>

"Zabuza, you shouldn't let yourself be caught off-guard like that against foes as strong as the copycat ninja of Konoha..." Spoke the boy as he prepared the salve for the swordsman's hurt ribs. It was the last of his dwindling stock, his last attempt to restock on herbs being interrupted by a rather strange bounty hunter. So far, they were in luck, as there was no sign of the man.

"Be quiet, Haku," Grunted the demon, "I know how to take care of Kakashi."

The boy handed the salve over, stepping back and busying himself by arranging his massive supply of senbon needles. It would take a while for Zabuza to finish taking care of his injuries, no matter how few there were. Kakashi didn't need to hit you more than once to do the damage. Although they were softer in the leaf than in the mist, that didn't make them any less dangerous in combat...

"Why do you keep fighting?" The words escaped the boy's mouth, he himself only half-aware that he even spoke them. The demon only looked over at him for a moment, then went back to using the boy's salve.

Their hideout was an old family home whose occupants have fled due to the island's progressively worse situations. The owners weren't the only ones to flee, however; after Kaiza, many families just packed up and left, prompting Gato and his men to start seizing anything that resembled a boat. It was just about the last nail in the coffin when it came to their freedom. There was no escaping the island, the last one to leave was Tazuna, the drunkard old man, a engineering prodigy back in his better days. He was sent to get help from the nearest ninja village, in this case the Village hidden in the Leaves.

As for Zabuza, he was silent. It wasn't like Haku to ask questions like that. Then again, it wasn't that surprising; the fight against the mysterious bounty hunter shook him up pretty badly, and having to watch as the Konoha team managed to fend off his assault...it had to bother him. However, Haku already knew why Zabuza fought, asking that question in particular was pointless.

"I told you before, the reason I fight is to make my ambition come to life." Said the missing-nin jonin, his voice flat and emotionless like it always was. It only ever changed when he was angry.

"But the village turned on you, didn't it? Why fight for something that isn't worth fighting for?" The boy's face was still as stone, his shinobi training showing.

"Why do you fight for me, Haku? I am not a man who inspires loyalty. I am nothing more than a single man intending to kill the way of a nation." He sighed, something he didn't do very often, " Following me is a shortcut to the afterlife. A tool that cannot do its' task properly rusts away and disappears, I told you this as well."

By now, he had finished using the salve, leaving the empty container on the table. The herbs made his skin feel numb and cold, but they also lessened the pain. Haku claimed that they hastened the body's natural healing, but that was a non-factor, as Zabuza would be up and about before the bridge is finished anyway. He looked over at the boy, noticing that his weaponry is arranged and prepared already. Good, he isn't losing it.

"I will follow you wherever you decide to go, Zabuza. But I only ask to know why." His voice was almost pleading. That was hardly fitting of a shinobi, but it was simply the boy was...

"The village hidden in the Mist... It is a place that would destroy people like you, Haku. It breeds monsters and demons, calls them shinobi, only to have them wash the streets with blood the next time a war comes around." He sat up, running a hand through his hair, something he hadn't done a long time, ever since he first received his executioner's blade. "Kind and gentle souls as yours cannot breathe the air of that village, it would be poison to you. The reason I fight is to force that sick village to become healthy once more. To make it remember the face of the first Mizukage."

Haku nodded, apparently content with the answer. He wished that Zabuza's wish to serve his village outweighed the Konoha ninjas' desire to serve theirs. He had seen the first fight, and he had to intervene to save the swordsman's life. He could not pull the same trick again with these enemies...

Somewhere nearby, a boat docked to the island, its passengers stealthily making their way through the village, careful not to attract any attention. Four of them wore Konoha headbands.

* * *

><p>The icy dome had long since disappeared into the mist. Zabuza would taunt and engage in the often forgotten art of combat banter, the heavy chakra load in the mist more than enough to hide the point his voice came from. Kakashi wasn't really that amused. Before the boy released that kekkei genkai, he was confident Naruto and Sasuke would be strong enough to defeat him alone. He was not as confident now, but he could not go and help them. A moment of inattention meant the death of the bridge builder. No matter how much potential Sakura had as a kunoichi, she was still fairly useless in actual battle, and would prove nothing more than an annoyance to the trained killer of the mist.<p>

"I'm tired of this, Zabuza. I know it goes against your style, but let's stop playing around. I'm deciding everything with this next move."

A dark chuckle rang out through the thick mist, the silence only long enough to get Kakashi to suspect a possible attack. "Interesting words, Kakashi. But what can you do when placed in this situation, though? Show me, copycat ninja of the Leaf."

Before he even finished speaking, the silver-haired jonin was already reaching for the scroll in his pocket. Ninja summons don't necessarily need to be summoned via scroll, but doing so allows them to use ninjutsu or techniques they otherwise wouldn't be able to. In this case in particular, they would already know the scent they're intended to track, without being offered it in advance.

Kakashi was done playing around. He wasn't lying when he said he'd finish it. As his hands moved through the signs of tiger, snake, dragon and dog, his mind was focused on his students. The boy shinobi was unnaturally fast, and those mirrors couldn't mean well...

"Earth Style; Summoning: Fanged Pursuit Jutsu!" Slamming the scroll with his blood onto the ground, Kakashi smirked under his mask upon noticing the subtle shifting of the ground, meaning that his hounds were already after whoever had Kakashi's blood on his blade. On this bridge, the number of choices was severely limited.

The demon didn't sound impressed. "Whatever you do, it's pointless. You cannot even feel my presence in this mist! But you've done well, Kakashi of the Sharingan, even if you did fall into my trap completely." However, before he could rush forward and take out the man who intended to stop him from realizing his ambitions, the ground in front of him caved, a pack of dogs leaping up and biting into him, holding the swordsman in place. As surprised as he was, he gave nothing more than a grunt.

"If I can't use my eyes and ears,I guess that only leaves the nose," spoke the copy-nin touching his nose for emphasis, "these hounds are my own pack of ninja dogs, and their noses are among the best of any creature alive." As the mist began to clear, Kakashi turned to his foe, staring at him with his single uncovered eye.

"Drawing blood without finishing me brought about your downfall. Now you are the one who is trapped, Zabuza. The mist has cleared, and I can see clearly," as he spoke, Kakashi pulled up his headband, revealing his single Sharingan eye, "The mist has cleared, your future...is death." He took a step forward, leaving the scroll lying down on the ground behind him. With each step, his arm slowly rose.

"You fooled around too much, Zabuza, you aimed too high. Failing to assassinate the Mizukage, you ran." The Konoha jonin's voice was now louder, almost angry. "To avoid persecution and keep yourself safe, you stopped so low as to side with trash like Gato..."

His arm was at chest level, the other one snapped to the same height. After three quick hand signs, he held his right arm as chakra gathered in its' palm. "Now I'll show you my original technique, not just another copy." The chakra flared for a moment, before solidifying itself into a bluish blade. Arcs of electricity began hopping from the concentrated chakra to the ground, at moments creating a perfect circle around the jonin.

With the lightning blade stabilized, Kakashi took one more step, the final one before he would dash in for the kill. "You are too dangerous to be left alive. The man you intend to kill is this country's hope," said the silver-haired ninja, his eyes narrowing.

"Your ambition would sacrifice too many lives. That is unworthy of a ninja."

Although he was lightly bleeding from the several bites, and was at his foe's mercy, Zabuza had kept strangely silent, up until this point. As the copy-nin spoke of his own ambition, the Demon of the Mist, Zabuza, could not control the rage that overcame him.

"Who cares! I fought for my ambition! That is something that will never change!" His breathing was ragged, and his eyes were flaring. Damn him, Kakashi, and his Sharingan! This was supposed to be a simple assassination job to take care of some nobody bridge builder. Things weren't supposed to turn out this way...

"I offer this again. Give up." Spoke the ninja.

"Fuck you." Spat the swordsman.

* * *

><p>It all happened so quickly. One moment, Naruto was looking into the eyes of the battered and bruised boy, the boy who killed Sasuke, and the boy who was begging him to end his life. The very next moment, the boy was gone, the mist was clear, the mirrors were gone, and Sakura was shouting. Only when Naruto turned to where he last saw his sensei, did the harshness of reality catch up to him.<p>

Having his Sharingan active, Kakashi noticed the subtle shine of the senbon flying past his leg. As the mirror began to form in front of Zabuza, Kakashi realized it was too late to cancel his jutsu. At this range, the only thing he could do...

"Ugh!"

In a puff of smoke, Kakashi's ninken all dispelled at once, the means of their summoning now destroyed. Zabuza looked on wordlessly as the mirror in front of him shattered, the tip of the lightning blade protruding from Haku's chest. On the boy's other side, Kakashi Hatake looked on as well, praying that he had managed to change his angle enough for the blow not to be fatal. The boy spat blood.

"Za-buza..." His voice was weak, fading quickly.

The lightning chakra fading from his hand, Kakashi stood with his arm half-buried in the boy maybe a year older than his own genin students, his last words the name of the man he had devoted his life to. He was about to point out how the boy saved his worthless life, but then he heard the Kubikiribocho clang against the ground.

The air was no longer just cool, it was freezing. The mist had changed it. The sky was almost completely covered in clouds, and the water below was still hidden under a thick layer of fog. The air tasted of blood and electricity. Naruto stood a ways' off, face frozen in a look of numb shock. He had not expected the boy to do what he did. He had not expected to see someone die that day.

"No! Haku you fool!"

Moving with speed he did not possess before, the swordsman caught the boy's body, reflexively sticking a senbon into a specific point of the neck, slowing his metabolism to a near-standstill. This was not how shinobi behaved in battle. This was not how the man known as the Demon of the Hidden Mist behaved in battle, especially against a ninja of Kakashi Hatake's caliber.

Yet there he knelt, eyes wide with anger and terror, his hands holding the still body of a small boy. This was not the man he was fighting, it couldn't be. He had not believed that the swordsman saw the boy as anything more than a mere tool to serve in achieving his bloody ambition...

In a shunshin, Kakashi appeared behind Zabuza, a kunai to his neck. While he was shocked at what had happened, this was no time to lose yourself. A battle was a battle, and Kakashi fought to win. However, even as he clutched the blade, he felt disgusted at what he was doing. The life of shinobi often meant becoming something dark and vile. His hand shook, only for a moment.

"Perhaps I've misjudged you, Zabuza. You might not be the trash I see you as."

Only then did the swordsman stir, realizing that his position was even worse than it was while the dogs were biting into him. The man who had killed Haku was now holding a kunai to his own throat. He was furious.

"What did you say!?" Roared the swordsman, beads of sweat now clearly visible underneath his headband.

Kakashi did not flinch. "One day, you might have known what real strength was, Zabuza," he leaned in just a bit closer, sacrificing just a sliver of balance in order to get the last taunt in, "Game over, you lose."

Just as the words left his covered mouth, Sharingan Kakashi saw the mist shift once more, revealing the mass of people gathered on the far end of the bridge. There were dozens, maybe a hundred of them. Thugs wielding crude weapons like clubs and bastard swords, wearing cheap armor and identical vests. In front of them all stood a short little man, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes hidden underneath dark, round glasses.

"My, my, what an entrance we've made, boys." Spoke the man, his voice sending a chill down Naruto's spine.

The momentary opening was enough for Zabuza to reach his blade and try and slash at his foe, only to see him flipping away. He leapt backwards as well, stuck between Gato and his men on one side, and Sharingan Kakashi on the other. Yet he could still afford to talk.

"Gato, why are you here?" Asked the swordsman, his voice back to its' usual dead monotone, "With your little escort nonetheless."

The small man's grin grew wider, something no one thought possible. He adjusted his glasses, hands clasped firmly on the tip of his walking stick. His voice was high-pitched and malicious. "There's been a change of plans, you're going to die here, 'Demon of the Mist', heh."

He needed to buy more time, he needed an opening, he needed to get Haku back to the hideout, the medic Kunoichi was there. The best thing he could come up with was a simple, flat question.

"Why?"

"You ninja cost money. Getting rid of you here means there's one less bill to pay. Simple economics, nothing personal." His grin was sickening, fading completely as the small man noticed Haku's body on the ground.

"And you call yourself a Demon? This boy died saving your worthless life!"

Zabuza flinched as he felt the blade of a kunai against his throat once again, dropping his blade. He took his eyes off Kakashi, and this was punishment for that mistake. Shinobi weren't supposed to make mistakes, but then again, nothing that was supposed to happen happened today, so fretting over one mistake in a whole lifetime of them was hardly productive.

"While we fought, I truly believed you were nothing more than trash, Zabuza, a bloodthirsty man who would only ever live up to his nickname. But the way you treated this boy...you proved me wrong." His fingers danced across the handle, the tension in the air becoming almost palpable. A ways back, a girl started screaming.

"I will give you this chance, Zabuza, " spoke the Leaf jonin, his voice louder and clearer than it ever was, even to the one student within earshot, "swear on your honor as a shinobi to give up on your bloody ambition, and I will make sure Gato and his men pay."

Although hidden underneath bandages, the lips of Zabuza Momochi curved into a twisted smile. "You really are a bastard, Kakashi, offering this when I'm in no position to refuse..." His eyes wandered over to the grinning figure of Gato, and his resolve hardened. "Fine! I'll give up on the coup."

As his gaze lowered to the body of the boy who most likely gave his life to protect him, Zabuza felt guilt, more than anything else. It's been years since he had felt something like that, and it hurt worse than any bite or jutsu. "It doesn't even matter now, anyway..."

Nodding, Kakashi disappeared in a puff of smoke, revealing himself to be a shadow clone. Leave it to the copycat ninja to send a fake for something like that. He turned to the shinobi who only seconds ago held a blade to his neck, staring at him with strangely serene eyes. "But don't you dare lay a finger on Gato..."

The demon bent down, picking up his great blade, the Kubikiribocho. He then turned around once more, facing the now spread-out mass of thugs, all eyeing him with murderous intent in their eyes. Zabuza tore the bandages from his mouth, revealing a grin of sharpened teeth.

"...He's mine."

Kakashi only nodded. "I understand."

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><p>Gato walked over to the body of the very feminine boy, admiring the still smoking hole in his chest. This was the little shit that had the audacity to insult him in his own office. Well, he got his, and his brute of a master would get the same soon enough. Leaning back, Gato gathered strength, sending a sharp kick to the boy's stomach.<p>

The boy coughed up more blood.

"Bastard!" Shouted a small boy, clad in orange, attempting to dash forward only to be caught by the firm grip of his teacher. Not even bothering to look at the jonin, the boy pointed to the assassin, his voice slowly rising. "You! Why don't you say anything!? He was on your side, right?"

The swordsman didn't even bother turning around. "Shut up, kid."

That wasn't good enough. The boy needed to know how someone could be that cold. His voice dipped, but was still loud enough. "You...You really didn't feel anything about what he did?"

Zabuza stood silently for a moment, then curled his free arm into a fist. "Like Gato used me, I used Haku. To me, he was nothing more than a tool. I do not regret it."

The boy tried moving again, his sensei's iron hands only holding down harder. With no other choice, he could only raise his voice. "Do you really mean that!? You really are a demon!"

Enough was enough, and the silver-haired jonin spoke: "Naruto, enough. He is no longer our enemy."

"The hell he isn't!" Shouted the boy, baring his teeth, "He's MY enemy!"

The boy's hand shot up, pointing at the body of the boy who he had met picking flowers only a few days ago. "He cared for you! You were the most important person in the world to him!"

The businessman grinned again, enjoying the tongue-lashing of sorts the demon was getting. His men never took their eyes off of him, and that was good. Any second now, he would try and make a move, and that would be his end.

"You really don't think anything of him?" Asked the blonde boy, his voice fresh out of strength. He couldn't believe that someone could be so indifferent to someone who would give their life for them. It didn't seem human...

"When a ninja becomes as strong as you, do you really start believing all people are tools? He gave you his life!" And then the boy quieted down, looking at the body at the businessman's feet.

"His dream was to help your dream come true, y'know. That's why he became something he's not. That's why he died."

Silence for only a moment, and then: "Kid..."

The shinobi rules state that a ninja may not show emotion. This rule was to prevent ninja from lowering their guards while emotion overcame them. In the Hidden Mist, any who would be caught or reported breaking this rule were executed. Under such conditions, Zabuza never once shed a tear in his life. But now, with the harsh reality of having to deal with Haku's death, tears flowed uninhibited from the Demon's eyes. It was a strange, foreign feeling to him, but he could not control it anymore than he could bring Haku back to life.

"Don't say anymore... Haku hurt his very being fighting not only for me, but for you lot as well...I know very well of the kindness in his heart."

His hand's grip on the executioner's blade tightened, so hard that his knuckles turned white. Kakashi slowly lowered his headband back over his Sharingan eye.

"I am glad that we were able to have you as our opponents..."

Slowly, the blade rose in the air, pointing towards the small man in the business suit, the one desecrating Haku's body by his mere presence.

"You were right, Ninja are human too...No matter how much we try, we cannot become emotionless tools."

He closed his eyes for only a moment, the tears abruptly stopping.

"Kid..."

Then he ran.

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Feel free to spread the word, as the story won't stay at the top of the list for longer than a few hours.<strong>


	5. Book 1 - Chapter 4

**This should cover the events and aftermath of the clash on the great Naruto bridge.**

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><p>Seeing the Demon of the Mist rampage over the bridge, Kakashi was silent. Although it was unlikely, a part of him suspected that the swordsman held back, focusing on the banter a whole lot more than actually fighting. The way he moved now, it was completely different from just a few moments ago. It was hardly possible that it was the same man fighting. He darted straight to the closest thug, humoring him by blocking a few attacks, ducking under the last one, only to seamlessly take the man's arm off, sending the dismembered limb rolling on the damp concrete. Before the man could scream, Zabuza was already jumping into the next batch.<p>

"Naruto, " spoke the Konoha jonin, an idea coming to his head "how many clones can you muster up?"

The boy's eyes widened even further, the surprised look quickly giving way to a grin. "Just give me a sec, and I'll flood this bridge with shadow clones, Kakashi-sensei."

The jonin shook his head, crouching down to match the boy's level. "Start with twenty. Their job will be to keep Gato from using this mess to cover his escape."

The blonde boy nodded, adjusting his headband. "He won't get past me, believe it!" As he said so, his arms came up in a cross seal, otherwise known as the clone seal. "Kage Bunshin!"

In a large puff of smoke that surrounded the entirety of Gato's men, two dozen little boys, all clad in orange, started jumping into position, securing the perimeter. If someone came close, they'll be taking a kunai or a shuriken, believe it.

Kakashi managed to recover the body of the boy Haku. To his surprise and relief, the boy was still breathing, if only barely. He had to do something, if only to stop the blood loss. He decided to give his life to protect his comrade, that alone warranted a dignified death, if nothing else. While he never bothered trying to be a medical ninja, Kakashi knew how to perform the mystical palm technique, and his chakra control was on point, as evidenced by the fact that he could shape the much wilder lightning-natured chakra into the fine shape of a blade. Coupling that with his standard jonin knowledge of human anatomy, the copy nin started his struggle to save the boy's life.

The lightning blade was an S-rank ninjutsu for a reason. Not only is it potent enough to make the user quick and strong enough to sever a bolt of lightning, it was the closest thing to an instant-kill ninjutsu that was ever created in the land of fire. No matter where the thing hit, it did serious damage; not only to the afflicted part of the body, but to the victim's entire nervous system, overloading it with electrical impulses. Something like that almost always left permanent damage. Fortunately, the heat generated is enough to cauterize a part of the wound, which meant that healing the injury wasn't _completely_ impossible.

While his attention was completely set on the boy, his safety entrusted to his genin student, Kakashi allowed himself to completely forget about the ongoing battle.

On the far side of the bridge, Sakura's teary eyes widened as she noticed Sasuke's body stir. She feared it was her mind playing tricks on her, so she tried to forget it, but... "S-Sakura?"

"Sasuke!" She all but shouted, "are you alright?" She wiped her tears, holding her teammate's hand. Seeing his body riddled with so many senbon was terrifying, but the logical part of her that she could still hear assured that senbon can't pierce beyond the muscle layer without some kind of boost. Their mass alone prohibited them from reaching the necessary speed.

"The dobe...is he..." Asked the young Uchiha, only half aware of his own consciousness. Maybe it was just the way his mind decided to accept death, accept the fact that he'll never avenge his clan, never kill Itachi.

Sakura smiled, realizing that her beloved Sasuke was going to be alright after all. "Naruto is ok, he's with Kakashi-sensei."

With a slow nod, the Uchiha smiled, closing his eyes once more. He wouldn't die on this day, which meant that he hadn't failed. No doubt the dobe will enjoy every single moment of retelling what happened after he passed out, adding ridiculous details in order to make himself look cooler. He was such a child...

As his world slowly faded back into the comfortable darkness, his ears made out something like a scream. He wondered who could be screaming when everything was so warm and comfortable...

* * *

><p>They weren't getting paid enough to go against this...this thing. That was the first thought that went through the man's head. The one that soon followed was less a thought, and more pure instinct to run away as quick and as far as he possibly could. But the moment he tried pulling back, a knife of some kind lodged itself into the front of his sandal, and his eyes saw a boy clad in orange, yelling something about becoming 'Hokage'. Whatever this 'Hokage' was, he didn't care; he just wanted to get off this god-forsaken bridge. Just as he turned around to do so, his eye caught the glint of steel. It was that ungodly large sword...and it was heading straight for him.<p>

"Hrm." Grunted the swordsman as he pulled the seversword from the belly of some unfortunate man. He saw the fear in his eyes, the desperate need to get away, but he didn't care. None of these bodies mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting to Gato, and he was through playing around with these idiots.

"Out of my way!"

They didn't look very inclined to listen, some still convinced that they could take on an enraged demon in a swordfight. Well, if they didn't heed the warning, it was their own damn fault. Cracking his neck, Zabuza began a mad rush towards where he last saw Gato, feeling each life his great blade took along the way.

One would think that the weight of so many lives would make that great blade impossible to carry, but the path of a swordsman was a bloody one, and few knew that better than Zabuza Momochi. Yet no matter how heavy the kubikiribocho became of the years, he would still carry it, as it was a symbol of his village, just like his skill with it was a symbol of his devotion to that very village. It was a representation of might, prowess, dedication... It was irrefutable proof of the power of a single man.

With this blade, he would set the Village hidden in the Mist free. He would do it honorably, like the first swordsmen in the days of the shodai Mizukage. He'd become a man who could achieve such a feat, and these years away from the village had not weakened his resolve in the least. By way of power, he would take possession of the village in the mist, and he would see it restored to the glory it once had, before the blood had started pouring.

Some insignificant guy tried to stop him with nothing more than his bare hands; He died.

A trio of experienced looking mercenaries with good steel stepped in his way, attacking in almost perfect unison; They died.

The two miserable bastards that stood to each of Gato's sides even back when he and Haku took the job of killing the bridge builder stood in front of the miserable little man, a small pile of shuriken and kunai at their feet. With a wide cleave, they were gone as well.

Standing in front of the puny businessman, Zabuza let his chakra loose, allowing it to take the form of the demon that got him his nickname. As it flared, the chakra seemed to thicken at points, slowly forming itself into the shape of a water demon, the hideous creature commonly used to frighten disobedient children before the wars started scaring them.

Zabuza grinned, his eyes wide from the rush of adrenaline and the killing frenzy he allowed himself to sink into. Yet his hand was still and steady as he gazed upon the one man who he had hated more than the child Mizukage, Gato.

That little man was the embodiment of what was wrong with the world. He had no power, yet he could bring change to the world. Something like that perverted power's true meaning, it's true purpose. Shinobi of the hidden Mist were taught to value power, the ability to complete your mission, above all else. They had gained that power by subjecting themselves to some of the most crushing and merciless training regiments throughout the five great nations. They tempered their bodies until they were as hard and cold as steel, they moved like the water that could punch its way though the hardest of stones, and they killed quickly and efficiently. They were shinobi of the mist, and they were power in its purest form.

This little man used his money and his lies to corrupt that ideal of power, using it to further his own selfish goals. For that alone, he deserved to die; but to kick Haku while he was down, that was what sealed his fate.

But even the worst of men deserve a clean death.

Zabuza brought the executioner's blade high, his eyes flaring as he felt the fear radiate from the small man beneath him. A mad grin appeared on his face, his eyes still as wide and hateful as they were ever since he saw Haku's body. His fingers danced for a moment on the grip of the blade, his back relaxing in preparation of what he was about to do. Then, in only a moment, he changed his mind.

Gripping the man's neck with his free arm, he dragged him to the edge, his presence alone enough to make the blond kid's clones back off and dispel. With a grunt, he held the terrified little man over the deep water below, letting his chakra dissipate. In the man's eyes, he saw fear and disgust. Zabuza was the one who was disgusted, a man must accept death when it comes for him, no matter what, or who, brings it about.

"This bridge is where you die, Gato," spoke the swordsman, his voice as calm and still as it was the day the two men met, back in that rat's nest, his sword hovering ready to the side, "save me a spot."

Throwing one last glance to the endless blue below them, Zabuza grinned. Then he let go.

* * *

><p>Gato, hadn't really made that many mistakes in life. In fact, he only ever made two that actually mattered. For all his years in business, both clean and dirty, he never once messed up. The authorities never caught on to him, and the ninja villages could never trace their losses back to him. He walked a thin road between two chasms, and he did it grinning.<p>

His first big mistake was meeting the woman of his life. Whatever happiness she and his son brought to his life, it paled compared to the pain of their loss. He had shaped his dream for them, only to have them simply disappear, just like that. It was an error on his part.

The second, and final big mistake of his life was being petty enough to kick the boy's body when he was already down. It meant nothing, and it had riled up the rogue shinobi enough to start butchering his employees without ever sparing them a second glance.

Actually, Gato's second mistake was sticking his head into the world of shinobi. He should've known that the tip of a blade was waiting on the other side. Though he had never expected the blade to be this large, or this _close._

It was all their damn fault. Those pathetic shinobi and their incompetence to listen to proper orders. If they weren't so damn helpless, his wife and son would never disappear. He would be sitting somewhere in the Land of Games, smiling at a small boy. He would be around eleven about now.

But the man who was nearing him was no shinobi. Shinobi were weak, fools only meant to be used for their ability to so blatantly spit in the face of all that's considered ordinary. They were nothing but measly pawns to be offed as soon as they outlived their usefulness. Seeing the massive purple creature snarl at him from above, Gato could only come to one conclusion: this was no man...this was, like his nickname implied, a demon.

He couldn't run, not anymore. He was supposed to look this man in the eye and face the fact that he fucked up. He was supposed to accept the fact that every mistake is punished.

He didn't.

As his lungs expanded, desperately inhaling the air he was denied by the demon's iron grip, he felt himself fall for only the briefest of moments. As he saw the gleam of the giant blade that was about to strike him mid-air, Gato mused on the fact that in a world of cutthroats, he'll end up getting slashed instead.

The pain was there only for the moment when the massive blade kubikiribocho hit his side. After that, there was nothing.

As for Zabuza, he was already running down the bridge with Haku's dying body in his arms; he didn't even hear the man's body hit the water.

* * *

><p>There are very, very few wounds in the shinobi world that you can recognize the origin of on sight. Off the top of her head, Amane Aizawa, a mercenary medic-nin, knew about three. She knew the spiral marking of a Rasengan, the single charred point of a hell spear, and she knew the jagged cut from Samehada. Once Zabuza came back with a dying boy in his arms, she remembered another one - the clean hole punched in by a lightning blade.<p>

What the hell was Kakashi Hatake, of all people, doing in the land of waves was none of her business. In fact, the whole reason Zabuza hired her in the first place was none of her business. She was supposed to patch up the bumps and bruises a ninja of the demon's caliber would gather in a fight, and go on her merry way. That all changed when she saw the boy. There were three things that stuck out immediately:

First, the boy had surprisingly effeminate lines, which no doubt came in handy when it came to infiltration. Judging from the fact that the boy was apparently travelling with Zabuza, a jonin and swordsman of _Kirigakure_, she quickly came to the conclusion that the boy was a Yuki.

Second, there was a goddamn lightning blade-induced wound just inches away from where the boy's heart is. Why the hell would the copy-nin attack a child with such a move?

Third, the wound was partially patched up. This was what surprised her the most. It wasn't the best of patch jobs, but it probably kept the boy alive as long as he was. Despite it not being a kill shot, the lightning blade did manage to burn through several ribs and half a lung.

Finally, she realized she'd need a lot more room than this little living room would provide.

Setting the boy on the balcony floor, she knelt down and began working her mystical palm technique, getting a feel for the damage, as well as the attempt at repairing it. It's going to be tricky, but she'll save him. After all, it's what she was paid for.

Momochi himself didn't utter a single word since he came back, only staring with half-conscious eyes at the boy's small body. The dark rings around his eyes and lack of color in the skin meant he was critically low on chakra, and it'd be a matter of seconds before he'd pass out. She informed him of that.

The swordsman only nodded, kept starting, then collapsed face first onto the floor. She didn't have time to pick him up, and besides, he wasn't in any immediate danger so long as Kakashi doesn't come back to finish the job.

There was a familiar gust of wind, and suddenly there was a presence to her left. Sparing the moment to look to her side, Amane noticed the copy-nin himself, eye-smiling at her.

"Will he make it?" Asked the silver-haired jonin, looking almost completely relaxed, despite the situation. Being a shadow clone, he really didn't have to worry about anything, especially with Zabuza floored like he was, but part of him felt guilty over being unable to stop his jutsu in time to avoid hitting the boy.

"You patched him up?" Asked the dark-haired kunoichi, not taking her eyes off her work anymore.

"Why yes. Did I do a good enough job?" The jonin answered, adding a question of his own.

"I'd do a better job stitching him up with _that_," she said, nudging her head towards the kubikiribocho, "but it did save his life."

The jonin nodded, still watching the procedure. "You didn't answer me."

"I won't know until I'm done. Now be quiet or leave."

Not needing to be told twice, the copy-nin indeed quieted down. He just hung around there, half-crouched, balancing on the balcony railing, strands of his wild silver hair fluttering in the soft breeze.

Replacing the lung and bones was a pain in the neck. Not only did she have to extract enough cells to stimulate renewed growth, she had to forge chakra substitutes for the destroyed part of both the skeleton and the organ. Fortunately, she was roughly the third best medic in the world, so it wasn't impossible. With the amount of chakra she pumped out into them, the framework should hold together long enough to have the body's original cells start replacing the missing bits.

Still, no matter which way you cut it, this boy won't be able to lead a shinobi's life ever again. Not even Tsunade of the sannin could fix up this kind of damage. S-rank jutsu were goddamn S-rank for a reason...

And this whole business with Zabuza was turning out to be a pain. Not only is she patching up whoever this poor kid is, but she's probably going to have to stay around for a while until he recovers. And she doubted that the swordsman was good company for the long run.

"Don't you have anything better to do? I'm working here," Spoke the Kunoichi, her voice slightly annoyed.

"No, not really. My darling genin are safe, and the bridge will take a while to clean up. The mission is officially complete for all intents and purposes, but that still leaves having to deal with this particular couple of loose ends." Answered the Konoha shinobi, giving another pleasant eye-smile.

"Right...at least pick this one up from the ground, he looks pathetic."

* * *

><p>Amane Aizawa was an <em>Amegakure <em>kunoichi. Making genin at the height of Hanzo's power, she devoted her life to medical jutsu, inspired by the tales of the legendary sannin ,Tsunade. However, when the regime of the one people referred to as 'god' started, injuries became much less common, as times were peaceful; it didn't offer much chances for a medic-nin to improve. Getting proper permission, she decided to wander the world, gathering knowledge about the medical aspect of the ninja arts, and offering her services for affordable prices to anyone who recognized or needed her skillset.

The only difference between her travelling outfit and her work outfit was the dark green rag she used to tie her usually long and wavy hair into a somewhat controlled ponytail for work. Otherwise, everything from the tight-fitting navy kimono to the saltwood sandals was always completely identical. Even when travelling colder regions, she'd just change her footwear and wrap a cloak around herself.

How she came to the land of waves, and how she knew the demon of the mist, were stories for another time.

Right now, she was worried about the annoying knocking. She'd stabilized the boy, and left Zabuza in his unconscious state on the other bed, crashing on the couch herself. She had no idea who was knocking, but she figured no one who wanted to kill her knew she was in this land. If they were after Momochi, they could have him.

"Good morning! How are the boys?" Asked an overly friendly Konoha jonin, three kids trailing behind him, two of them looking pretty roughed-up.

"Seriously? Ah, whatever, come in." Without bothering to argue, the kunoichi invited the squad of guests in.

This, however, seemed to surprise the jonin. "Wow, you'd just let us in? Here I thought we'd have to bribe you with the delicious breakfast we made."

Shooting a glance at the basket that was in the lone girl's hands, the medic-nin nodded her head, fixing her eyes on Kakashi. "Ration bars are hardly breakfast. And they're anything but delicious."

Raising his arms in mock defense, the jonin side-stepped her, taking a seat at the dining room table. "You caught me." And he didn't bother going further than that.

The three kids walked in as well, each doing something vastly different. The blonde rushed in, a worried look on his face as he sat down on the floor next to Haku's bed; the girl timidly sat down next to her sensei, nibbling on a cherry-colored ration bar; the dark-haired boy stepped into the bedroom, nodded, and then crashed on the couch. She should have expected something like that from Hatake's team...

"Is Haku going to be okay, miss medic?" Questioned the little blonde as soon as he noticed her reentering the room. The worry in his eyes was honest, even though she was pretty certain the two groups were facing off against each other before Zabuza came running back, carrying a kid with a hole in his chest.

She smiled before answering, "He will, don't worry." It was a lie, but telling the genin that Haku's life as a shinobi was over would hardly help her current situation. She was essentially caught between two very dangerous jonin, her conscience keeping her from just bolting from the Land of Waves altogether.

"Kakashi-sensei, did you really mean it when you said we'd be spending the next few days here?"

"Yes Sakura, I did. While they might have been our enemies before, I'm sure Zabuza and Haku won't mind us crashing at their place until the bridge is complete."

The girl seemed relieved, but a new voice popped up with a question, "That's still a week's time of work, what are we going to do when these guys wake up?" asked the boy from the couch.

"You let me worry about that Sasuke. What you should worry about is the super special one week only training regiment I got cooked up for you three," answered the jonin.

"Training? When?"It was Naruto, peeking his head in at the mention of his third favorite activity.

"Well, you can start tomorrow. All three of you, to be exact."

While she was amused with the team dynamics of the konoha squad, the medic had a job to do, so after wolfing down a surprisingly tasteless ration-bar, she went back to the bedroom, shooing away both of Kakashi's boys before closing the door.

This was just swell, having to play house with Zabuza Momochi and Hatake Kakashi of all people...

Sometimes, she wondered if foul luck came with being a good medic.

* * *

><p>Waking up three days after the events on the bridge, Zabuza woke up to see the eye-smiling face of Kakashi Hatake, holding a kunai to his neck. Considering the fact that he woke up in worst scenarios and survived, he wasn't all that bothered.<p>

"Good morning, Zabuza."

"Kakashi, get that thing out of my face."

Surprisingly, the jonin did so, leaning back against the wall. Pulling himself into a seated position, Zabuza checked to see the still unconscious Haku, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You're here because I'm a loose end, aren't you?"

All he got was a nod. For all his joviality, the copy-nin was a threat, as evidenced by the way he managed to get the upper hand during their confrontation on the bridge. However, that wasn't important right now; right now, all that mattered was seeing Haku recover.

"I don't go back on my word, Kakashi. I couldn't care less about this land, or the Land of Fire."

"You're a wanted criminal, Zabuza, why should I believe you?"

This annoyed the swordsman, but he was in no shape or position to argue. "It's been decades since you've been in Kirigakure, you know nothing of the Mizukage's oppression. My only goal is to bring stability back to my village. By force if necessary."

The copy-nin gave no reaction, only staring wordlessly. After a few moments, he spun the kunai 'round his finger, tucking it back into its spot in his pocket. "We'll see about that. I'll leave you two alone for now."

With that, Sharingan Kakashi vanished in a puff of smoke.

* * *

><p><strong>That pretty much closes the book on Gato. He played the game, and he messed it up.<strong>

**Interlude story featuring Deidara and Sasori after book 1, yes or no?**

**Amane is OC, won't be back until book 9.**

**Timeskip will be covered over the span of three books, each focusing on a single member of team seven.**

**Some filler arcs will be covered, movies 5 & 6 will as well.**

****I'm planning to push this story all the way to the 4th world war arc. ******I'm not stopping till I push 1000k words.**

**Books 1-9 are almost completely covered story-wise, just need the writing done.**

**Book 11 is going to be a motherfucker of a story. If someone already wrote my book 11, I'll be super upset.**


	6. Book 1 - Chapter 5

**Even the smallest interruption can have astounding consequence.**

**Also, team 7 get some screentime.**

* * *

><p>The old man, Tazuna, was many things, but a slacker wasn't one of them. Although the work required to finish the bridge was now down to about a week and a half, people were motivated to finish it, inspired by the fact that Gato was no more. As the bridge builder put it, the ruthless businessman met his end at the end of a ninja's blade. With the danger of him and his thugs gone, the workers could both focus and take it easier, eliminating the fear-induced mistakes that slowed down production. All in all, it went quicker.<p>

As for the ninja themselves, adapting to living in the abandoned family home was turning out to be simpler than expected. Kakashi called dibs on the couch, letting his genin sleep on the floor. When confronted on this, he simply replied it builds character, and that as shinobi they'll have occasions where sleeping on the floor will be a dream come true. After that explanation, even the usually hot-blooded Naruto seemed to calm down.

Haku was getting better, but still didn't wake up. Finally able to finish the diagnosis, Amane simply stated that with the amount of damage his lungs and blood vessels took, any serious exertion would put too much pressure on his heart, which may decide to shut down from the stress. Breaking the news to Zabuza was somewhat easier than expected; the man only nodded, then went back to watching over the boy.

All these years, and he was not a step closer to realizing his greatest ambition. And with the promise he was forced into making, he never would, at least not the way he planned it. He would have gathered the money, used it to amass followers, and then just repeat the same thing from all those years ago; only this time, the child Mizukage would die. Now he had to find a different way.

And Haku... the boy was willing to give everything for him, even his own life. Seeing that was, put lightly, a serious shock. The easiest way to describe it was as a reminder, a reason why he fought, why he ever had his dream of freeing the village. It was to secure a place for people like Haku, the ones who had the bodies and abilities to become shinobi, but not the hearts and souls. He wanted to use his power to shape the hidden Mist into such a place.

But his power wasn't even enough to get past Sharingan Kakashi, the infamous jonin of the hidden Leaf. Why? They both fought in the name of their villages, right? Why was the difference in power so great? He had managed to outdo the Sharingan, so that wasn't it, but something was still missing. Because he didn't have that 'something' the Demon of the Mist couldn't defeat his Konoha adversary...

At least, with him and his genin having forced their way into their hideout, he could talk to the man, if he were so inclined. That could wait until Haku woke up, though.

* * *

><p>On his side, Kakashi was busy training his genin. The day was relatively clear, and the air didn't give any hint of incoming rain. He marched his squad out into the nearby forest, and sent them running a couple dozen laps while he finished the first act of Icha Icha Violence, the second book in the series. As the panting kids returned, he lifted his gaze, and gave them a content nod.<p>

"Alright, today we're going to be doing tree walking..."

"But Kakashi-sensei, we already know that!" Immediately interrupted Naruto. For all his potential, his over-zealousness was a major nuisance that came with training.

"Let me finish, Naruto. Now as I was saying, we'll be doing tree walking, the only difference is, we'll be training how to fight."

With that said, the silver-haired jonin produced a pair of long sticks, as well as a pair of ropes. Noticing the blank looks he was receiving, he thought it prudent to try and explain his idea. "Sakura, use these ropes to tie the non-dominant hand of the boys behind their backs."

She gave him another blank look, and even the usually indifferent Sasuke was staring at him with a puzzled look. At first prompt, the girl did as she was told, partially tying her still confused teammates. Kakashi then threw the long sticks to each of the boys, and pointed to a large tree at the edge of the clearing.

"You're going to go up that tree, and on my signal, try and knock each other down. Each time your opponent touches the ground, you get a point. No Sharingan allowed, and you play to twelve points. Winner gets to ask anything they want from me, and if it's within my power to grant, they shall have it."

Intrigued by the possibilities of the mentioned reward, both boys nodded, a competitive flare in their eyes. As soon as they reached the upper half, they began swinging at each other. At first it was carefully, not to lose their footing, but as more time passed, and their confidence in their technique rose, the moves started getting more and more serious. In the first five minutes, Sasuke had two points to Naruto's one.

Sakura was about to turn and ask her sensei about what she was supposed to do, only to find herself staring into a closed scroll held by the man. It was small, and the outer side was a dull grey, but it seemed pretty new. Kakashi eye-smiled before explaining. "I was going to teach you water walking, but decided it was best that all three of you learned that together. Instead, you're going to read this scroll, as it contains the basics of genjutsu."

Sakura's eyes widened at the mention of one of the five great ninja disciplines, remembering her last experience with one all too vividly. She actually relieved a similar scene only days ago on the bridge, but that was no genjutsu... "Alright, I'll have it done in no time at all, Kakashi-sensei."

The jonin nodded, then retreated back to his fairly comfortable tree stump, and kept half his eye on the book, and the other half on the two practicing boys. If he wasn't mistaken, it was six for Sasuke and four for Naruto. The blonde wasn't making it easy for the Uchiha prodigy. That was good; so long as the two kept close to each other skill-wise, they'll be trying to outdo one another, and that would make their progress significantly faster. If they kept at it, and if Sakura kept doing her best to keep up, he might just recommend them for the upcoming chunin exams. Maybe.

The sky clouded over, and the light slowly started fading. Sakura had began warping the nearby shrubbery and making it appear pink to her sensei, and the boys were tied at twenty-one each. Apparently, the promised reward had completely slipped their mind in the heat of competition. Progress-wise, they were doing astoundingly well, fighting upside down for the better part of the hour. There wasn't a fall in the last two.

"Sakura, the important thing about using genjutsu is keeping the opponent unaware of that fact for as long as you can. While some genjutsu distort the foe's sense of reality, they can also pretty easily tell that it's an illusion, and will attempt to break them."

The pinkette nodded, then placed a hand on her sensei's. "Something like this, Kakashi-sensei?"

The silver-haired jonin immediately recognized the strange fluctuation of his chakra, but made no move to dispel whatever illusion the girl cast. Failing to notice anything particularly strange, he shrugged and returned to his book...his book wasn't there.

His eye widened in surprise, staring at the smiling girl for a few moments before he brought a hand up and focused enough chakra to break the genjutsu. Doing so, the book shimmered back into view, and the feeling of weight, easy to forget about since the book was fairly small, returned. Honestly, Kakashi was surprised. Chakra control like that was noticeably rare in a genin, which meant that his little kunoichi had massive potential.

"That was very good Sakura. Mind explaining what exactly you did?" He knew what she did, but was interested in the thought train that led her to choosing that particular approach.

Sakura smiled again, feeling surprisingly good for doing something so simple. "Well, the scroll said that a genjutsu is supposed to target the opponent's senses. Apparently, the most dangerous ones are sound and sight-based genjutsu. I just concluded that, as an experienced shinobi, you'd be less on your guard against a touch-based genjutsu."

Her theory was sound, except for the last bit. He was famous for a variety of reasons, one of them being his ability to never forget about all the ways a foe might try and attack. Touch-based genjutsu was rare, though, as most users of the art preferred staying away from their opponent. Still, for a first attempt, it was very good. She might have a future in that particular style... oh, and there's an idea!

"Excellent work Sakura, now I'm going to teach you a simple genjutsu, and if you manage to use it successfully on whichever of the boys wins their little competition, I'll teach you one more."

"Alright, I'm ready." Needless to say, Inner Sakura was pumped: _Cha! Whatever I set my mind on, I can do it! Just you wait Sasuke, you'll see how awesome I really am!_

"Alright, this is the 'Demonic Illusion: Paradise Viewing' technique..."

He demonstrated the hand signs, and instructed her thoroughly on the workings and intents of the technique. Unless she has a very good opportunity, she won't be able to use it in battle, but it's very useful to disarm an unsuspecting opponent. It also has its uses in worming your way out of a promise, especially when you know what you promised.

By his professional estimate as a jonin of Konohagakure, Kakashi guessed that Naruto would want a hot bowl of ramen, and that Sasuke would request to see his face. Since he wasn't in the mood for doing either of those things, he'd have Sakura hypnotize the winner into thinking that they've gotten their reward. Yep, he prided himself on his teaching. These kids would be strong shinobi one day...

Wait, he'd have to teach Sakura another genjutsu... Oh well, no plan is foolproof.

* * *

><p>It was nighttime, they were completely worn out, and teme broke the Sharingan rule an hour ago. Letting himself slide down the large tree's side, Naruto substituted himself with the long stick, not knowing the rope escape technique. It was a nice day, and he preferred spending it running around the village making trouble than listening to Iruka-sensei's uninteresting explanations.<p>

Sasuke wasn't far behind, but instead of escaping the rope, he substituted himself with the unsuspecting Naruto, making the blonde curse out loud at his predicament. Still, the dobe put up a surprisingly good fight, right up until he decided to break the rules and use the Sharingan. He needed to practice with it anyway, so it was killing two birds with one stone as far as he was concerned.

Since they both reported breaking the rules, Kakashi decided to punish them by having Sakura try her new technique anyway. She took Sasuke's hand, overjoyed to have an excuse to do something like that. She did the same with Naruto, but noticeably slower. With a small channeling of chakra, she started messing around with the flow in their heads. Then she let both of them go and stood next to Kakashi to watch.

Naruto wasn't that surprising, sitting down and digging in into the bowl of ramen that magically appeared at his feet. Ramen was ramen, and he didn't question where it came from. Sasuke, on the other hand, brought his arms up to dispel the genjutsu after a couple of seconds.

"Nice trick, but I could tell that it was too good to be true." He wouldn't tell, but he actually hallucinated having Kakashi take off his mask, revealing... No it was just an illusion, not the real thing. "And let the dobe go, he's looking ridiculous."

Sakura made a quick hand seal, muttered 'release', and Naruto was suddenly panicking, wondering where his bowl of infinite ramen went. "Hey! What's the deal!?"

His teammates only gave him disappointed looks, and started walking back towards the house. Slightly annoyed, the blonde genin followed along, grumbling about wanting to eat ramen. He was one of the few in Konoha who really appreciated the delicate cuisine that is ramen.

The rest of team 7, however, were just ready to go back to a home-cooked meal. Turns out the medic-nin was a decent cook, having gathered quite the cookbook over the course of her travels. Tonight's menu was Kumo-style salmon.

Back at the hideout, Haku stirred. His eyes opened, seeing the familiar beige tone of the ceiling. That was good, he wasn't dead. However, something was definitely wrong. His chest hurt like hell, and he clearly remembered taking the lightning blade from Kakashi Hatake, the copy-nin. For all intents and purposes, he was supposed to be dead.

An unfamiliar woman approached him, and began explaining exactly what had happened while he was out. As the woman finished her story, and Zabuza appeared in the doorway, Haku could only smile.

* * *

><p>Getting a second chance in the shinobi world was not as much a matter of perseverance as it was a matter of luck. Simply put, you mess up, you get killed. Or someone close to you, or your entire village. However, the amount of luck it took to survive a bout with Kakashi Hatake the way he fought it was enough to cover the years of misfortune that started with the failed coup. Zabuza wouldn't be making such a mistake ever again. His second chance was in his hands, and it was time to decide what to do with it...<p>

The blonde brat that pestered him with questions on the bridge seemed to be the most excited when he heard Haku was up, and spent quite a long time detailing not only his version of what happened on the bridge, but the one day of training as well. Haku, for the most part, stayed quiet and listened, a serene smile gracing his countenance. The rest of Kakashi's genin were polite enough, but kept their distance. He couldn't blame them, they didn't meet him outside of combat.

And so did another few days pass. Kakashi and his students went out and trained, mostly forced to play high-speed catch on the surface of water. Haku kept getting better, and was soon able to leave the bed. According to him, the pain was nothing; according to Amane, he shouldn't be able to walk yet. Zabuza didn't push him into anything, just silently sitting and watching the Konoha team do their training.

The kids had good heads on their shoulders, as evidenced by the fact that neither the blonde, nor the Uchiha hesitated to attack from above or below when given the chance. It was particularly amusing to see the broody kid get blindsided by a clone coming from above, not able to do anything to defend. It was no surprise they managed to keep up with Haku that long. That and the blonde brat's monstrous chakra.

"Zabuza."

The addressed shinobi lifted his head, meeting the eye of his equal by rank from Konoha. His eye looked serious, and Haku stood up and left on his own, deciding to contribute to the training by having them dodge snowballs.

"What is it?"

Sitting down, the silver-haired shinobi cast a interested look at Haku's snowy assault for a moment before turning back to the swordsman with the look in his eye even more serious than before.

"What will you do from here? You are still a wanted rouge ninja." He asked and stated flatly.

"Return to the Land of Water, and kill Yagura." Answered the swordsman, in the same flat tone.

"Another coup?" His eye twitched, betraying his doubt in the decision to trust the swordsman. Kakashi wasn't one to have tells like that, but something about Zabuza made him react much more strongly than he usually did.

The swordsman, however, only shook his head, "I gave you my word, Kakashi. Only Yagura dies, no one else."

As an A-rank missing-nin, returning to your village and slaying a Kage while not killing anyone else... It was near-impossible. Kakashi's brow shot upward, his puzzlement getting the better of him.

"And how do you intend to do that?"

That got a smile from the mist shinobi, who only pointed to the massive blade on the far side of the field. "With that."

Beneath his mask, Kakashi smirked. The demon of the mist just didn't stop surprising him. The way he put it, he made it seem plausible. Hell, if he doesn't mess around as much as he did on the bridge, he could probably manage to get close enough for a silent killing. Beating the Mizukage in a straight fight was impossible. Even the third would have his work cut out for him trying something like that...

"Alright then, I'll believe you. Make sure to write when you get there."

Zabuza shot him a confused look, but then grinned. "Heh, sure." After that, a somber look came upon him, and he only looked at the four kids' training. His eyes were distant, and it didn't look like he was aware of his surroundings at all.

"What is the purpose of a ninja, Kakashi?"asked the swordsman, not bothering to spare a look at the copy-nin.

The copy-nin didn't expect something like that from a man like Zabuza. Then again, for a man so driven by his ambitions, it's no wonder a question like that would occur to him. It was about the equivalent of 'why do we fight'. He had no ready answer for it, but he had to save face somehow.

"To live by his nindo." That was fairly clever, it should work.

The swordsman considered the answer. What was his way as a ninja? A long time ago, it was to strike true. Nowadays, it seems lost to him, hidden away in the mist. Perhaps that's the reason why he lost, because he didn't fight with all his heart. That blonde genin shouldn't have been able to beat Haku, yet he did, tapping into some kind of freak power. Kakashi never backed down, even when all odds were against him. The question that bothered Zabuza was why he wasn't able to draw upon that kind of strength...

Suddenly, they were surrounded by the kids, all of them wearing serious expressions. Kakashi's eye narrowed, and Zabuza grunted.

"That's so cool!" shouted the ever-energetic Naruto, "I need to find my ninja way right now!"

Ah, an opening. Sharingan Kakashi never missed an opening. "Why? You already have one."

As expected, the blonde just stared at him with a blank look. "Huh?"

"Well, you keep saying how you never go back on your word, and how you're never going to run away. I just thought that was your nindo." Stated the detached jonin.

Catching on, the genin nodded his head furiously. "Yeah, that's it! Right as always, Kakashi-sensei!" No one failed to notice the embarrassed blush.

"You're hopeless, Naruto." Offered the Uchiha, his pink-haired teammate agreeing immediately.

* * *

><p>"Going already?" asked the silver-haired jonin, lazily looking up from the couch he was sprawled on. The same book he was always reading was in his hand, momentarily lowering as he noticed the Kunoichi with her gear packed heading for the door.<p>

She stopped, looking surprised, "Well, Haku's gotten better, and I got my ryo...Oh, where's the little Kunoichi of yours?" She looked as if she just remembered something, and reached for a pocket on the side of her bag. Kakashi shrugged.

"Try upstairs, I told my precious genin to pack as well."

Sent off with a nod, the elder kunoichi went upstairs, knocking on door before entering the storage room where the kids kept their things. There wasn't so much upstairs, save for a bedroom, a washroom and a small room for storage. As expected, the pinkette was there, slowly packing up her things.

"Sakura," started the medic-nin, having finally found the scroll she was looking for, "I have a gift for you."

The two kunoichi got along surprisingly well, the small pinkette willing to listen to the travelling medic's many long-winded stories. When, in a fit of amazement, she compared her to Tsunade, the dark-haired kunoichi couldn't help but grow a soft spot for the genin. Besides, she couldn't have any children of her own, and didn't feel any loyalty to Ame. The young Sakura was quite possibly the best choice for someone to inherit the technique, given her aptitude for genjutsu. She handed over the scroll.

"Now, I need you to promise me that you'll take good care of this. It's my original technique, and I want you to have it. And I'm not taking 'no' as an answer." She finished with a smile, something she noticed she did surprisingly often in the Land of Waves.

The girl just looked at the dark green scroll in her hands, then back up at the elder kunoichi. After a few seconds, she bowed her head. "Thank you, Amane-sama." And she left it at that.

Giving the genin one final pat on the head, the Ame medic left the room and took to the stairs. Before leaving, she shot Sharingan Kakashi one last look. Hopefully, she won't have to heal a wound made by his jutsu ever again. Outside, she caught sight of Zabuza and Haku, giving the two a wave before turning around and heading down the road towards the bridge. She had decided to go to Kumo for a while. Having never been there before, she was sure there was plenty waiting for her on the road.

Two hours later, and Team 7 stood assembled outside of the small house at the edge of the island village. Naruto was pumped, Sakura was still eyeing her bag nervously, and Sasuke was looking bored. The good thing was that all three managed to further their chakra control, walking and battling on the surface of trees and water with ease. If there was any trace of doubt in his mind, it was gone now - Kakashi was definitely sending these kids to the chunin exams.

After waiting for a solid ten minutes for Naruto to say goodbye to the mist assassins, team 7 and their jonin hit the road, ready to go back to the Land of Fire. Turns out that the bridge was named 'The Great Naruto Bridge', something that the boy in question refused to stop talking about for the better part of the road home.

As for Zabuza and Haku, they finally had time to sort out their business. Still technically a missing nin, Zabuza couldn't just go through the Land of Fire and make his way back to his home village, and the Land of Waves lacked a port sufficiently large enough to have ships heading out further east than the Land of Crabs. Low on money, his ultimate decision was to walk to the Great Red Port in the Land of Crabs, and take a ship to the land of Sea. From there, it's just a two days' boat ride to the first of the islands surrounding the Land of Water.

It's going to be a long trip, and they'll be pausing to train at the Land of Sea, but at least there was a solid plan. It was more than they had when they arrived into the Land of Waves. Needless to say, he'll also have his hands busy gathering fresh info on the state of affairs in the homeland, as well as dealing with the inevitable attacks by bounty hunter ninja. The shovel-wielding guy who attacked Haku hasn't returned, but he's still out there.

"Alright Haku, let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>Only three more chapters in book 1.<strong>

**I've decided to go with the Akatsuki-focused interlude after all, because the artists are so good to write.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, don't be afraid to spread the word!**


	7. Book 1 - Chapter 6

**This is a battle that really should have happened in the anime, at least in flashback form...**

* * *

><p>A month has passed since the two Mist Assassins have left the Land of Waves. Yet in their minds, the images of the ones who had decided to spare their lives were still fresh. For Haku, it was the hyper-energetic blonde genin, Naruto Uzumaki. In him, he recognized a great love for those he sees as friends, no matter how new or weak their bond is. Even when Haku begged the boy to kill him, to end his existence as a shinobi, he wouldn't do it. It was not the way he done things. As for Zabuza, his thoughts often returned to the image of Sharingan Kakashi, standing in front of him on the bridge, lightning arcing from his hand. The Konoha jonin had managed to beat him every step of the way, his decision to spare his life was only a matter of coincidence. If the copy-nin had been angrier, there was no doubt that Zabuza would've met his end on that colossal concrete structure.<p>

Now they were nearing the border of the Land of Crabs, a land known for the high cliffs and long beaches along the shoreline. It was a peaceful land, mostly devoid of shinobi activity. The only times a ninja would bother venturing there was if they needed quick passage east, just like the two of them did.

"Zabuza, how are you going to face the Mizukage alone? Would it not just end the way it did last time?" That was Haku's question. These last few days, he'd ask it every so often, wording it differently each time; it worried him. Last time, Zabuza at least had allies to fend off the ANBU assault, something he wouldn't be having this time around. No one would put their faith in him anymore, not after he had failed. Only Haku remained, his trust in the swordsman almost absolute.

And although he only answered with a grunt, Zabuza himself was also worried. He needed to train against worthy foes, and he needed a way to face Yagura without involving the rest of the village in it. Part of him knew that there was a way, but nothing concrete ever came up in his mind. Practically, he'd be going in without a plan. Shinobi that went on a mission without a plan didn't stay shinobi very long.

Still, the thing that bothered him most was Haku's injury. Although he had fully recovered, the medic-nin's words rang true - his stamina was completely ruined, shinobi travel speed was beyond his capabilities now. Although the boy kept claiming he'd fight alongside him, the swordsman knew that something like that would kill the boy, and had to plan with that in mind.

The border was getting closer, soon they would be entering a small town build right beside the crossing itself. While his information was relatively outdated, Zabuza knew the town to be little more than a simple rest stop, agriculture being what kept the town afloat. After a day's worth of travel, they finally found themselves passing through the unimpressive gates.

Even for such a small town, the place was populous, men and women of all ages milling about, going on with their daily activities. They didn't seem all too bothered with the presence of a man with a bastard sword on his back, but still gave him an adequate amount of room. While the common populace had little to do with the ninja world, most knew of their existence, but wisely kept away due to the inherent dangers of dealing with such people. Only lands such as Kumo or Konoha had open support from their civilian population.

Haku and Zabuza kept progressing, looking for a place they might stay at. The hard truth was that they simply lacked the money to board a ship, and Zabuza wasn't in the mood to live off scraps they could swipe for the duration of the three-day voyage. After all, he had to find a way to become stronger before they reached the land of water. While he did have an idea on how he'd go about that, the major issue was money, something he simply didn't have after the disaster in the Land of Waves.

After a while, they managed to find a cheap place to spend a few nights, and then they parted ways. Zabuza sealed the Kubikiribocho into a scroll, threw on a jacket and went to inquire about getting some kind of work, while Haku went to see if he could gather information on the current state of affairs in the Land of Water.

Having changed into simple clothing consisting of slacks and a shirt, the boy started going from place to place, starting with the marketplace. Lots of sea food was almost exclusively exported by the land of water, and if he could find a stall with some in the market, odds were that he'd be able to get some information. While there was a couple of stalls, the information on the hidden village itself was pretty useless, never going further than mentioning 'unrest'. At least the ports were working as usual, making the standard three day rounds from the Land of Sea. Disappointed, Haku pressed on.

His next stop was a chain of drinking dens, frequented by travelers, sailors and missing shinobi. However, that too offered little information, as not one of the men there seemed to know anything worthwhile. Growing more frustrated, the boy stepped out and cast a long stare at the street. His eyes widened upon noticing something that seemed to match the description of something Zabuza spoke about every so often. There was no doubt about it, one of the men in the uniform cloaks was carrying the bandaged sword - Samehada.

Wasting no time, Haku followed the two. When it came to tracking, every ninja village found different ways to go about it. Iwa had bees, Konoha had dogs; Kumo usually employed birds. Due to their relative isolation, Kiri went with a bit less orthodox manner, using chakra-detecting sea-slugs. Studying the beasties had led the hidden Mist village to discover a fuinjutsu technique that could link a sheet of paper with an object or person, enabling the pursuer to follow the marked target no matter how far they went. The only drawback of the fuinjutsu manner of tracking was that you needed to find and mark your target first.

Preparing the marked senbon he carried as part of his civilian loadout, Haku took careful aim. He couldn't hit near the sword, as it would just drink the chakra from the inscription on the senbon, and he couldn't hit the bladesman himself, as whoever could hold that blade was most definitely a dangerous shinobi. Seeing his opening, Haku threw the needle with his practiced accuracy, burying it into the man's sandal. It was a near-perfect shot.

Satisfied that he managed to get something for his trouble, Haku hurried back to their meeting place, hoping he'd find Zabuza before the two men got away.

* * *

><p>The relatively new duo of Akatsuki operatives strolled through a border town close to the Land of Crabs. Their first assignment as members was to go to the Village hidden in the Mist, gathering information on the current whereabouts of their two jinchuriki. For Kisame, the whole thing was a pain in the ass, as he'd not only be prevented from fighting, something he enjoyed doing, but he'd be forced to go back 'home'. Still, right now, the job was to get to the great port in the Land of Crabs.<p>

Moving through the crowds, the two men hardly gave the small town more than a passing glance. Each of them was absorbed in their own thoughts and problems. In Itachi's mind, stories of his past played on a loop, leaving him wondering if there was something that he missed, if there was a move he could've made to save his clan and his best friend. For Kisame, it was the desire for battle, along with his memory of slaying his mentor, the despicable man that used to wield the sharkskin blade.

Itachi's eyes twitched for only a split-second, yet his partner noticed. While they had little in common, unlike the other two groups they met and recruited, the two Akatsuki complemented each other incredibly well. Kisame in particular had surprised people with the way he managed to understand Itachi's silences. According to him, there were twenty-four separate silences Itachi used, and each carried a different meaning. However, this twitch was something he didn't yet see. "What's the matter? Why the look in your eyes?"

"Somebody stuck a chakra-loaded senbon in your footwear. It was quite a feat of accuracy." Spoke the Uchiha in his usually distant tone of voice. Perhaps it was the trauma of slaughtering his own clan that made him that way, or maybe it was just the attitude one would get after relying so heavily on genjutsu for years. To such men, reality was little more than another illusion.

Kisame grinned, "Well that's certainly interesting. I didn't expect hunter-nin this early in the journey..." He threw a glance over his shoulder, not seeing anything even remotely suspicious, "What's our move?"

Itachi didn't even turn to look at him, "We keep going as if nothing happened. When they decide to engage, it will be us with the advantage of surprise."

The monster of the mist nodded in agreement, familiar eagerness building up in the back of his mind. Somebody was going to die by his hand that day, and he couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>He did not expect this. However, he couldn't have asked for a better turn of events. Running into another swordsman meant acquiring either a powerful ally, or a powerful weapon, both of which would help towards reaching his goal. And the fact that the sword Haku recognized was the Samehada only made things better. He'd not only get the most feared of the seven swords, but he'd kill that bastard Fuguki.<p>

With what little there was of their gear stored away in scrolls, the two mist assassins began tracking the marked senbon. The two men had apparently left the town already, as it wasn't long before they had crossed the border.

"I'm worried. The man I saw does not fit your description of the sharkskin's wielder."

"It's probably just a henge, Haku. The blade itself won't allow itself to be transformed or hidden, so he still had to keep it on his back," seeing that his words done nothing to encourage the boy, Zabuza continued, "Fuguki is an old fool, Haku. The only reason I didn't kill him all those years ago was due to the child Mizukage's appearance. I am stronger than he is."

The boy said nothing, offering only a weak nod. What worried him is the fact that he couldn't support Zabuza with anything other than his senbon and ninjutsu from afar. The lightning blade injury had not only made long range combat risky, it made close range encounters impossible for the boy. And then there was the other man in the identical cloak. They knew nothing of this stranger, and perhaps he was just as dangerous as the swordsman...

The road had been winding through a forest for a while down, steadily going downhill. Haku's estimate was that the shore could be seen from the edge of the forest, but he didn't have time to check if his assumption was correct. The seal on the tracking scroll had stopped changing, the spot indicating the marked target apparently stopping. That was good, the two men had stopped, which gave the assassins the chance to catch up, as well as the option of ambushing them.

Detouring into the forest, the two took a long route around, positioning themselves further along the target's path. This was the ideal scenario for Zabuza, who could use the fact that the Land of Crabs was known for the occasional fog to cover up the Hidden Mist Jutsu, setting up the perfect opportunity for a silent killing.

All that remained for them now was to wait.

It wasn't that long before the two robed figures appeared in the distance, moving about as quickly as they did before Haku spotted them. The fact that they wore large hats that hidden their features slightly concerned Zabuza, but he couldn't afford to miss an opportunity like this. The Samehada was within his reach.

Focusing his chakra, Zabuza worked through the hand signs, allowing a thick mist to spread from his body, rolling over the road and through the surrounding forest. His senses focused on the mist, both his hearing and smell magnifying in potency by using the chakra as a medium. The two men were almost close enough for him to engage.

The art of silent killing is almost exclusive to the shinobi of the Hidden Mist. It uses the advantage of surprise to its fullest extent, allowing a skilled user to neutralize even a powerful enemy in a single strike. Of course, the more competent the target, the harder it was to catch them off their guard. This was commonly circumvented by attacking at odd times and angles. One of Zabuza's favorite ways of eliminating enemy shinobi that knew he was coming was to confuse them with a water clone, who would produce footsteps in the opposite direction from where the actual threat was coming from.

Essentially, the silent killing was a technique of striking at your enemy when he or she has absolutely no way of defending themselves. The Kubikiribocho was actually one of the worst blades for such an art, bested only by the Blastsword and the Sharkskin in terms of impracticality. That hardly stopped Zabuza from being the deadliest of the swordsmen when it came to using it.

Rushing forward, the demon swung the great sword, expecting to feel the soft resistance of flesh. What he felt and heard was the clashing of metal. Whoever carried the Samehada didn't just loot it off a corpse, then. Good, it wouldn't be fun if he went down in a single blow. Zabuza readied himself to try another strike.

"This is absurd. I'll get rid of this mist. Wind Style: Great Breakthrough." A man's voice spoke.

The wind jutsu did its work, carrying a blast of air through the forest, blowing away the mist. Zabuza leapt up to avoid a slash from the wrapped sword, landing on top of a nearby branch. This wasn't good, both enemies were shinobi, and by the feel of their chakra, both were top-class ninja. The one with the Samehada was a special kind of beast, his chakra rivaling even the blonde brat's monstrous chakra signature.

The two figures took battle positions, waiting for Zabuza's next attempt. "Why if it isn't Momochi Zabuza, the Demon of the Hidden Mist. Long time no see, sempai."

That voice...he knew that voice. There was no mistaking it, not many voices got the otherwise calm and collected swordsman to feel so creeped-out. The man who now held the Sharkskin blade was none other than Kisame Hoshigaki, the man who had acquired the title of 'Monster of the Hidden Mist'. He didn't expect the sword that he supposedly wielded to be the Samehada itself.

"Kisame. What happened to Fuguki?" Growled the senior swordsman, straightening himself up. Perhaps he could talk them down, avoiding an unnecessary confrontation.

"I'm afraid that Suikazan Fuguki met his untimely end by tripping over and impaling himself on his own sword," deadpanned the strange-looking bladesman. His partner cocked an eyebrow at the sentence.

The confidence with which they present themselves, paired with the strong chakra signatures...These guys aren't worth the trouble. Zabuza needed an out, and he needed it fast.

"One more question, and then I'll leave you be. You can pretend you never even saw me."

This seemed to amuse Kisame, who only let his grin grow wider. "I don't think we can do that, but feel free to ask anything you like."

Haku was doing good staying out of sight. There is no way he could even contribute to the fight, let alone be a part of it. The demon of the mist found himself running out of options. Still, he'd use the time he had as best he could. "Those robes, they're uniforms, aren't they?"

The junior swordsman actually laughed that time, finding the whole scenario amusing. Being a member of Akatsuki brought so much more than a chance to get into a good fight. It's moments like this one that really made the whole experience shine. "Uniforms of the Akatsuki. I'm sure even you heard of the name, wandering the lands and all."

Zabuza said nothing, only grunting in response. Kisame seemed to find no end to the amusement, turning to his partner. "Itachi, would you do me a favor and give us some space? I really want to see if master Zabuza kept his edge."

Giving his partner a long glare, Itachi only shrugged, moving to the side, taking a seat on a conveniently placed rock. "You can come out, boy. I sensed you back when you threw the senbon." Not getting an immediate response, Itachi resigned himself to watching the upcoming confrontation between the swordsmen. Haku soon stepped out, fearlessly taking a seat next to the infamous Itachi Uchiha, slayer of the Uchiha clan. That took some courage to do.

Realizing that he's run out of options, Zabuza sighed, then leapt down onto the road. Bringing the sword up, he took a long look at his opponent. What little he remembered about the man mostly regarded his incredible chakra levels, as well as his tendency to abuse that very advantage. He'd have to watch his step around this one, he was about as dangerous as Kakashi, and the copy-nin was holding back. Something told Zabuza that Hoshigaki doesn't know how to hold back.

Taking a deep breath, the demon of the mist rushed in, swinging the executioner's blade in a wide arc.

* * *

><p>"So, you're Itachi Uchiha... you look a lot like your younger brother."<p>

Itachi was surprised. If there was ever a topic he couldn't simply ignore, it was his younger brother. And this boy seemed to know him.

"You...met Sasuke?"

Haku nodded, smiling pleasantly, "Yes, I was almost forced to kill him. The Sharingan is quite a formidable kekkei genkai."

Silly little brother, letting a boy like this outdo him in battle... He needed to grow stronger if he ever hoped to revive the Uchiha clan. Loss was simply something he couldn't let himself experience.

"Tell me of your fight, please."

The boy had much to say. Apparently, he was one of the Yuki, users of the pure Hyoton. He fought not only Sasuke, but Naruto-kun as well, managing to abuse Sasuke's inexperience with the Sharingan and take him out of the fight by riddling his body with senbon. Itachi had already seen the boy's impeccable aim, so it was no surprise that he could pull of something like that.

Still, hearing that Sasuke is progressing so slowly was worrying. Even under the tutelage of Kakashi Hatake, perhaps the only man in Konoha save the Kage and the Sannin who could match Itachi, Sasuke was not making progress. If he kept moving at that pace, he wouldn't ever reach the level of ability needed to protect himself and the village... He had to motivate him somehow, and soon.

Meanwhile, the two bladesmen were locked into a very high-stakes game of chicken. While they traded blows as equals, neither was really willing to take a risk and try a different attack. From afar, it looked more like a coordinated performance than an actual battle. Steel hit something that wasn't quite steel, sending sparks flying nonetheless. Kisame, for one, was having the time of his life.

"So long since I fought a man who could handle his blade like a true swordsman... We are a dying breed, Momochi..." spoke the Akatsuki, never once losing his near-permanent grin. His attacks were straightforward, but powerful. It seemed like he was only warming up for when things really got serious.

Zabuza would never voice it, but he agreed. Matching blades against someone equal in skill gave new meaning to battle, something a simple ninjutsu showdown could never give. He danced around the Samehada, trying to get a shot in past the blade's wide defense. While none of his attacks really came through, he wasn't really trying that hard either. "Fuguki taught you well, kid."

Suddenly, the Akatsuki swordsman, changed his attack pattern, going in for a kick, covering his exposed side with his blade. Zabuza could block, and risk getting scratched by the Sharkskin, or he could dodge, giving up ground. Then again, he could just go in for an attack as well. Shifting the blade to his other hand, Zabuza readied a punch, bringing the flat side of his executioner's blade up to absorb the brunt of the incoming kick.

Noticing his foe's reaction to the attack, Kisame smiled, cutting his attack halfway in order to try and take off the demon's arm as it came. He did not succeed, forced to block when Zabuza instead kicked the blade of the Kubikiribocho forward, intending to get some damage in to the legs.

The battle was slowly heating up, and it only got better from there. Unwrapping the top of the blade, Kisame went in for another assault, this time alternating wide swipes with fast jabs and kicks. In return, Zabuza swayed from side to side, swinging his massive sword in overhead arcs in order to get some distance from his fellow swordsman. Having found their rhythm, the two eased back into the obligatory combat banter.

"Fancy meeting you here, of all places. Could it be that you've finally decided to come home, Zabuza?"

An overhead strike, followed by a quick roll and stab. Zabuza blocked, then dodged twice. His move.

"What's it to you? Besides, I may as well ask you the same question."

Switching to a reverse grip, Zabuza leapt and tried to take Kisame's head clean off his shoulders. Failing to land that, he followed up with a sweeping kick, forcing the younger bladesman to back off. He was exceptionally good. No wonder the Samehada had no issue with him as the wielder.

"Well, I wanted to invite you and that kid over there to join us, as we're heading to the Water as well. Letting you get there would hardly threaten the mission, as there's simply no way you can beat Yagura. He is no longer the same man he was back then."

Zabuza frowned, then went in for another slash. However, when this strike was blocked, he spun around, revealing the kunai in his hand. The shorter blade got the monster of the mist, tearing a wide gash in his sleeve, but failing to actually hurt him.

"You say that as if he was a man when I tried to kill him."

The Akatsuki swordsman didn't bother stopping his laughter, enjoying the little inside joke that shinobi of the Mist easily understood. Itachi wasn't very big on jokes, so travelling with him really lacked good-natured humor...

Rolling up his sleeves, revealing forearms as pale as the rest of him, Kisame took the offensive, barraging Zabuza with a series of relentless strikes. He intended to see just how tough the last of the old guard was, to see if his words held any truth to them. The only thing Kisame hated more than a liar was a man who lied to himself.

"Alright then, enough with the warm-up. Let's see if the Demon of the Mist can stand up to its' Monster!"

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><p>Itachi wasn't very amused. While conversation with the boy was pretty convenient, giving him fresh insight on Sasuke's progress, it did little to actually solve any of the numerous problems the elder Uchiha had to deal with. Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance. Kisame should be satisfied after this long...<p>

Yet before his foot could touch the ground, he froze, noticing the ominous chakra coming from the ground. Having never before seen something like that, he concluded that it must be the Ice Style chakra, otherwise known as Hyoton. He had to applaud the kid with the patience, setting up something like that without him noticing took very careful pacing. Still, Itachi's face betrayed no surprise.

"Would you please disarm the mines you created around the stone. I'm going to assume you're not so foolish to make them contact-only."

"I'm not going to do that, Itachi Uchiha. We will stay here and watch this battle run its' course."

With mines being hidden away underground, and their chakra an elemental type he had no experience with, Itachi was forced to pause for at least a bit. Surprised that such a young boy could so effectively prevent him from interfering, he decided to sit back down and watch the rest of the fight. After all, the boy would die when they reached the Land of Water anyway.

A bit further away, the battle had reached its peak. The two swords _blurred_ past each other, trying to land the deciding blow on the wielder. Neither man turned to jutsu, as unspoken code of kenjutsu users was that the shinobi would use his sword as long as it was in one piece. Some wouldn't stop even after their blade was shattered, Zabuza being the first one to do such a thing, due to the Kubikiribocho's tendency to mend itself in battle.

Both swordsmen turned to using kunai in their off-hands, tiny sparks flying every time any two blades collided. It wasn't long before the knives took to the air, aimed at vital spots. They were promptly deflected, and in Kisame's case, picked back up.

The Samehada was not an easy sword to use. While it was very adaptable in battle and near impossible to break, it also had quite an appetite for chakra, demanding to be kept constantly fed. For a man like Kisame, whose chakra gave him the much less used title of 'Tailless tailed beast', keeping the sword sated was no bother, and he knew how to leech chakra off of it if it started misbehaving. Put simply, it was a very delicate relationship, but both the swordsman and the sword knew exactly what to do to make it work.

However, he was through playing around. Swinging the Samehada in a wide arc, Kisame created the opening he needed to get behind Zabuza. He brought the kunai forward, intending to press it against the senior swordsman's neck and claim victory; it never came. Memories of his clash with the copy-nin still fresh in his mind, Zabuza practiced a way of covering the drawback of leaving his back open after a big attack, by swiping the opponent off their feet by using the hole in the sword as a pivot point, the handle of the blade ending up as an improvised bludgeon. It only worked once against a single enemy, and was decidedly risky, but in actual battle, he only needed one opening.

Breath ragged, Zabuza pointed at his fallen enemy with the tip of his blade, eyes gleaming with determination. "Sparring session is over Kisame, I win."

Kisame was too shocked to speak. It has been so very long since had a battle this thrilling. Of course, if jutsu were allowed, it would be a completely different story, but still... "Impressive, Master Zabuza. It still won't be enough against Yagura, though."

"We'll see, monster of the mist."

Itachi was unimpressed.

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><p><strong>My apologies, but the 'Book 11' I mentioned was moved a bit further, becoming 'Book 12'.<strong>

**Next chapter will cover the Mist Assassins' journey to the Land of Sea, as well as Zabuza's preparation to face the Mizukage. Also, the presence of the Akatsuki will be explained.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, keep spreading the word.**


	8. Book 1 - Chapter 7

**It's kinda disturbing how quickly I can get out chapters for this...**

**Also, some Orochimaru and a brief splash of Team 7.**

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><p>Itachi had spent the better part of an hour meditating in his cabin in order to consult leader-sama in regard to the appearance of the two surprisingly competent Kiri shinobi. While there was no doubts in his mind that they could remove them as factors, perhaps the bladesman and his apprentice could be of use to the Akatsuki. While there was no immediate need for more members, the demon's agenda apparently greatly intrigued the leader.<p>

After being forced to wait a couple of minutes, Itachi was informed that he and Kisame are to support the efforts of the two rogue ninja. Knowing better than to fish for reasons, the rogue Uchiha nodded and disappeared, opening his eyes to the already familiar sight of his cabin. While he had little to gain or lose by travelling alongside the two, it was fairly safe to say that Kisame would be having the week of his dreams.

"...as such, the Akatsuki are an organization whose sole purpose is to find a way to work towards peace. Our leader believes that removing the fourth Mizukage would be a step in the right direction, and as such, we are to assist you in this endeavor so long as our paths overlap."

What he didn't reveal to neither them nor Kisame were their updated orders; they are to detour to the Land of Lightning and gather information until news reach them regarding the success of Zabuza's endeavor. Should the elite jonin and former swordsman manage to take out the fourth, they were to return to home base immediately, otherwise they are to proceed with the original mission.

After all, he'd feel bad having to burst Kisame's bubble so soon after the monster of the mist managed to find a sparring partner that is not only able to fight on his level for extended periods of time, but was also a master of kenjutsu. Ever since the ship set sail, the two swordsmen would only return in order to eat and sleep, spending the rest of their free time in very high-powered training sessions.

Haku couldn't help but giggle when he saw Zabuza surf on top of a water dragon in order to get a sneak attack in at his fellow ex-swordsman of the mist. Of course, it took a lot more than that to get the blue-skinned ninja, but even he had to admit that the move looked formidable. Too bad surfing on a shark looked even more badass.

"The training sessions with your friend have really improved Zabuza-sama's technique. I have not yet seen him fight someone this strong without the intent to kill." While Kakashi was fairly civil after their encounter on the bridge, the memories were still too fresh for the two to try sparring, despite how much it would help the swordsman. Haku had noticed that his teacher wasn't fighting as well as he did at the start of their exile, which could only mean that his direct combat skills had dulled somewhat.

Itachi didn't answer, which didn't surprise the boy in the least. The young man was very quiet most of the time, often drifting off while gazing out at the southern sea. On the inside, though, he was more alert than usual. Not only did he have to watch the two they ran into, but he also had to figure out what Madara's true goal was regarding the Mizukage. He had known about the man's influence over the jinchuriki kage, but a noticeable time has passed since the man shown any indication of using the young man to further his agenda. Just what was his play...

Removing the Mizukage would be getting rid of a loose end, but that meant that he was either willing to risk the three-tails rampaging and disappearing, or that he had somehow already isolated the beast, making sure that they could access it easily when the gathering of the tailed beasts finally began. They would also have a somewhat safe outpost in the Land of Water, but that wouldn't hold after the three or six tails became targets. The organization had nothing to gain from making this move...but then again, they had nothing to lose either, and Madara wasn't above using other people, no matter how insignificant in the greater picture, to further his purposes.

Meanwhile, some miles further, two extraordinarily dangerous individuals were busy training. To the casual observer, it looked more like a bloodthirsty fight to the death with no restrictions. And in all honesty, that's what it was. However, both men were good enough to avoid injury, and the open space that was the sea gave plenty of room to dodge and, in the case of actually getting hit, recover.

Zabuza cursed under his breath as yet another colossal water shark leapt at him from the water, intent on either crushing him, or tearing him to ribbons, whichever was more probable at the time. However, he gave as good as he got, and Kisame would end up getting way closer to a water dragon than was considered safe, even for a ninja.

While the men were nearly-equally skilled, there was a reason why Kisame was classed as more dangerous, and it wasn't just due to the Samehada. Simply put, the man had chakra for days and knew how to squeeze even more from anyone bad enough to get scratched by his ravenous blade. Not only that, but his most common jutsu were generally high-yield water style assaults, favoring the shark motif he had come to be known for over the years.

Still, while he wasn't quite there yet, Zabuza wasn't all that far behind. His jutsu didn't have as much kick to them, but they were versatile, and he had become bolder in choosing his angle of attack. Kisame had stopped finding it funny after the twentieth time that the executioner's blade almost claimed his leg. He had grown accustomed to the limb, and wouldn't want to replace it, no matter how good some ninja-grade prosthesis were.

"You..." Murmured Zabuza, panting for quite some time now, "You really are a tough one to deal wi-" Before he could finish the sentence, he tumbled to the side, avoiding the slash that aimed to separate his head from his shoulders. Kisame only gave him the usual sharkish grin, pointing to the jutsu construct that was rapidly approaching from below.

"Fu-" was all Zabuza could get out before what seemed as the millionth shark came from below, dispelling into a shower of droplets upon missing its target. Thankfully, this wasn't one of those that would just split into smaller sharks when it missed. Zabuza _really_ didn't like those.

"You know why I'm not going back to the Water alone, master Zabuza?" Queried the Akatsuki, beginning a coordinated assault with his animated sharks. He seemed to be completely at ease, even enjoying himself. Then again, most people were sure that he'd keep grinning like that even if something deeply upset him. There was simply no other way to imagine the man.

Zabuza dodged the jutsu, blocked the blade, and then tried to get an attack in before being forced back by another shark. "Do tell, I'm dying to know." He wasn't even bothering to hide the sarcasm after their second day on open waters. Truth be told, he couldn't really work on his battle banter with Kisame, due to the man focusing so much on trying to kill or at least seriously maim the senior swordsman.

"It's because I can't take Yagura down alone. And I don't see you being able to with what you're showing during these little sessions of ours." Despite the ungodly amount of menace projected with those words, it wasn't anything new to the demon of the mist. The fourth Mizukage was dreaded for his overwhelming offense, and his tailed beast's defense and sturdiness covered the hypothetical occasions when someone would manage to outgun him or survive long enough to try and counterattack.

Truth be told, aside from the first Mizukage, who was the only man who could've most likely gone toe to toe with Tobirama Senju in a water style battle and won, the fourth was probably the most well-known Kiri shinobi in the entirety of the ninja world. The single battle he took part in during the third war was very quickly decided in the Water's favor, and that was a year before the child genius volunteered to have the demon sealed inside of him. The infamous flower-staff and his mastery over coral-based ninjutsu were only some of the weapons the infamous kage possessed.

And Zabuza was struggling against Kisame, who so plainly stated that he wouldn't dare go after Yagura alone. Getting to the point where killing the Kage without mass bloodshed was a possibility was going to take some work, and he only had another three days' worth of training with the Akatsuki swordsman.

"One thing bothers me, though... If you do kill Yagura, and you get the title of Mizukage, I wonder how long it's going to take before you send people to get killed trying to retrieve the Samehada..." Kisame wondered aloud, sparking a similar question in the demon's mind.

What had him worried was the fact that killing the fourth was only the first step of what would most certainly be a very long process. While he did have the village's interests in his mind, Zabuza knew he wouldn't make much of a Kage. That meant that he'd have to find someone competent to take up the title as soon as he was done killing off the most of the yes-men that the Mizukage has surrounded himself over the years.

"When it comes to that, I'll come after you myself. For now, I think we should go back. The ship's getting closer..."

Kisame grinned, but said nothing else.

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><p>Early mornings in the Land of rice patties, known to the shinobi world as the Land of Sound, were an astoundingly beautiful sight. Even when you were one of the most powerful shinobi alive, you couldn't help but have respect for the sheer beauty of the world. It was simply beyond what a human hand, no matter how experienced or gifted, would ever be able to create.<p>

Orochimaru, one of the legendary sannin, and current de facto ruler of the Land of Sound, stood at the balcony of one of the many facilities he had scattered in the mountains, admiring the way light fell into the valley below. It was simply...sublime. He couldn't contain himself, chuckles ringing out in the early morning air. This was one of the moments that made him devote his mortal life to understanding and unlocking the secrets of life. A lifetime's worth of mornings like this...

However, as he immersed himself in the beauty of the image before him, he noticed something out of the ordinary. It was a small paper construct, and it was gliding ever so steadily towards him. His first reaction was to shoot it down. If it was made by the woman from the Akatsuki, the little girl Jiraya decided to teach ninjutsu all those years ago in Ame, it could be packed with enough explosive seals to blow a hole in the mountain.

He licked his lips, getting a taste for the air around him. It was something snakes often did due to the peculiar way their sense of smell worked, and he managed to develop quite a simple technique that mimics the same effect, only feeling for chakra rather than scents. Realizing that the paper construct was empty, he extended an arm into the air beyond the balcony, taking the thing out of the sky. Smiling upon noticing the childish design of the paper airplane, he noticed the scribbling on the inside, and unfolded the whole thing.

His eyes widened the moment he recognized what it was."Oh my... To think that we were so close all this time..." With a knowing grin, Orochimaru tucked the small scrap of paper into one of his many pockets and returned to watching the valley. Only this time, he was thinking of something completely different.

A mysterious benefactor... It was both amusing and worrying. While the little note said had essentially managed to solve something that's been hindering him for quite some time, its origins and sender were unknown. More than likely, whoever sent the message was aware of his presence in the newly accepted hidden village...

"I wonder...how long until they come to collect on the debt they forced me in?" It was most certainly not Akatsuki, and Orochimaru generally had few friends. Actually, he had no one he actually counted as a friend. He left such trivial and insignificant things behind when he decided to devote his life to the pursuit of knowledge. "Surely this wasn't a simple act of charity... It would be very disappointing if somebody felt pity on _me_ of all people, kukuku..." His soulless chuckle rang out through the air atop the valley once more before the snake sannin retreated into the facility.

His first intended stop was storage, followed by the laboratory. Afterwards, he'd have to go back to the southwestern facility... It would be a busy couple of days.

* * *

><p>Itachi stared impassively at the truly colossal water dragon that had formed in the distance. The two bladesmen started every training session with a few miles of running as a warm-up. It not only helped them prepare for a day's worth of dodging and jumping, but kept civilians mostly ignorant of the fact that four passengers were shinobi of B rank and up. His Sharingan briefly flicking to life to check the amount of chakra, a barely noticeable twitch of his lips indicating what is for him a smile of amusement- the chakra was easily the amount of an upper chunin. The demon's reserves were indeed fearsome.<p>

Yawning, he relaxed his eyes, turning his head to the faint outline of the shore on the horizon. While the boy had long since abandoned trying to drag him into conversation, he still stuck around, busying himself with either leisurely reading or physical exercises, depending on the time of day. Noticing a set of strange movements, Itachi concluded that the boy either carried a disease like he did, or was otherwise crippled. He felt sympathy, but did not express it.

Over the days that they traveled, he had brought Kisame up to speed in regards to the status of their mission. While a bit disappointed that he wouldn't get to cause a ruckus in his home village, Kisame quickly got over it when he realized that they would be instead going to Kumo, a place known for a large amount of bladesmen, as well as its two high-profile jinchuriki.

It was an unspoken agreement between the two that, if the mission demanded, or if Itachi somehow miraculously managed to make a mistake (happened only once), Kisame would have the green light to do what he prided himself to be among the best at doing - slaughter.

And in all honesty, it wasn't his fault that those girls confused Itachi with some local teen idol... Even if it was hilarious and resulted in the two of them having to pretty much torch the village afterwards.

"That must have been entertaining, Kisame-san." Said Haku politely. He saw no reason to be hostile to the members of the Akatsuki, and got along surprisingly well with Kisame. The monster of the mist had as many battle stories as Zabuza, and wasn't nearly so tight lipped. Apparently, the stories he enjoyed most were any that had his partner lose a fraction of his usual composure. According to him, Sasuke's elder brother was nigh-impossible to get a strong reaction from.

"You should have seen it, heh," laughed the swordsman, "Itachi Uchiha, going pale from a mob of schoolgirls, ha!" Needless to say, Itachi wasn't amused.

Snapping out of his brief recollection of the night before, Itachi turned his focus back to the faraway battle. It seemed like the large-scale jutsu were toned down a bit, and it was no surprise. Demon or not, when it came to raw amount of chakra, the only ones who beat Kisame were the very people he'd soon be hunting.

A few miles away, the two swordsmen were engaged in what would be their final sparring session before they parted ways at the port in the Land of Sea. It was no surprise that both men had pretty much decided to pull out all the stops, throwing down combination assaults and jutsu at each other with intent to kill. Of course, after that long, neither really had anything left up their sleeve, so it all boiled down to a contest of stamina. It was a contest Zabuza was steadily losing.

"I wanted to ask you something from day one of our little training..." mumbled the strange-looking man, bringing Samehada around to essentially devour a water dragon bullet. Zabuza couldn't wait to get his hands on explosive tags...preferably the moment they hit dry land once more. Hiding a tag in a dragon was something he was itching to try.

"Eh? Sure, ask away." Replied the older swordsman, swinging in a wide arc in order to get himself more room. "Hidden Mist Jutsu!" On command, the mist rose from the water, obscuring vision in a deceptively large area. Quickly and silently, Zabuza began gauging where his opponent was.

For Kisame, the technique was always a big pain in the ass. Samehada refused to just eat away at it, and he could do jack-shit when it came to wind techniques. Couple that with the fact that Zabuza enjoyed popping that jutsu whenever Kisame wanted to ask him something, and it was no surprise that it was one of the few moments when his eternal grin had faded into a straight line.

"You're being a bitch." He ducked, hearing the familiar and shrill scraping of the kubikiribocho against the sharkskin. This time was uncomfortably close. "I wanted to ask you why you're so stuck up about killing the purple-eyed bastard. With so many people wanting him dead, what makes _you_ the one who's supposed to do it?"

Zabuza released his jutsu, staring down his fellow swordsman as the mist cleared. His body was unusually relaxed, words arranging themselves perfectly clearly in his mind. For the first time in a long while, the demon himself knew why he would fight.

"Why? Because his very existence perverts all that we were taught to hold as truth." His eyes flared with determination, the water underneath his feet rippling. "He is the shield of the village, yet he has ordered the death of hundreds; He is the Mizukage, yet his power is borrowed; He speaks of peace, yet his actions sparked wars!" Zabuza spat, unable to control his building anger. "He has forgotten what is the purpose of power..."

He closed his eyes, clutching the executioner's blade. He remembered the day he was invited to the man's office. After years of training, pushing himself to the very limit, Zabuza had finally earned his right to become one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. He remembered the smile the Mizukage gave him as he handed him the great blade, he remembered the vow he made that day. The Seven Swords would serve the Mist. When it was attacked, they would defend it; when it attacked, their blades would cut the deepest. They would be the first and the last line of defense. They would be the legendary bladesmen.

Yet as time passed, the glory and the pride of being a swordsman was quickly drowned in the blood. For that was all the Mist kept returning to - bloodshed. Time and time again, against enemies from within more often than those from the outside. Their blades were steeped in the blood of the Water. They were ordered to go against the vow they had made.

"His title of Mizukage is nothing but a **lie**!"

Kisame grinned.

"Well, well...I don't believe it..." He lowered his blade, pressing its' tip against the ground and slowly lowering his head. To anyone outside of the lands of Iron and Water, the gesture was meaningless. To a swordsman, it was one of the few true signs of respect.

"To think that someone like you would find that kind of purpose... I might have misjudged you. Perhaps there is a shot of you actually pulling it off. Besides, lesser men have done more when properly motivated..."

He smirked, staring directly into the eyes of his fellow swordsman. It was small enough to miss, but something had definitely changed in the man's stance, his approach to battle. The Monster of the Mist had little doubt that, when time came, Zabuza Momochi could stand up to the fourth Mizukage.

"Realize your ambition then, Demon of the Mist." He spoke, his voice even and loud. "Show this world the **truth** that is **power**."

Slowly raising his sword, the Akatsuki began working through a series of hand signs. Working through the entire set, his eyes shone with excitement. "Water Style: Super Shark Bomb Jutsu!"

Then the waters began to rage.

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><p>"Alright! Home sweet home!" Shouted a blonde genin, amusing the two men at the gate. The duo of Izumo and Kotetsu were known to be the only two chunin who explicitly volunteered for gate duty. After a couple of months of non-stop shifts, the third simply found it easier to permanently assign the duo to the gate, sending them off on missions only when necessary. When push came to shove, the two were surprisingly adept at working together, able to take down even tokubetsu jonin or ANBU.<p>

As for the blonde himself, he was glad that they were back at the village. While going off on C-turned-B missions was fun and all, he was beginning to miss things like his own bed and the occasional bowl of ramen. Besides, you can't be an awesome country-saving ninja _all_ the time.

After a noticeably long stay at the office detailing their mission reports, team 7 met up outside to get an update from their sensei. After the expected twenty minute wait, the copy-nin casually walked past them, whistling a tune to himself. It wasn't long before he was yelled at by the two less composed genin on his squad.

"Ok, I'll tell you..." Sometimes, children were simply children. "Tomorrow we have a day off from missions."

"And?" was the immediate response by the two.

Kakashi scratched his head, closing his one eye. "Well, seeing that you work quickly, with the way you managed to get down the basics of water walking during our stay at the Land of Waves, I thought that we could try and refine that collaboration jutsu that Naruto and Sasuke came up with. It was a truly magnificent example of teamwork."

Sasuke gave a grunt. Their enemy was a jonin-level shinobi who had managed to entrap their teacher in a containment jutsu. The dobe's quick thinking, coupled with his own technical skill, was the sole reason they survived that particular encounter. Come to think of it, with his fireball, they could easily swap places; you don't need something as tricky as the shadow shuriken technique when the shuriken that you thought missed you suddenly shoots a fire style jutsu at you...

"In that case, I'll see you tomorrow. Later Sakura, Naruto."

As the young Uchiha left the group, joining one of the many streams of people that milled about the streets of Konoha, the two remaining genin gave each other a long look. However, before Naruto could say something stupid and get Sakura to hit him again, the Jonin intentionally passed between them, ruining the chance. With a shrug, the blonde decided to spend some of his newly earned ryo on half a dozen servings at the best ramen stand in the village.

"Teamwork, huh? Well we were pretty good teaming up against Haku... Oh, is that a discount on paper bombs? Here I come!" And so, the young jinchuriki allowed himself to be lost on the road of life.

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><p><strong>-HELP REQUIRED-<strong>

**I need help with ideas regarding OC's to be used as cannon fodder in the chunin exam (Book 3).**

**There are 8 slots in total. Since it's a _chunin _exam, anything overpowered or deemed beyond a child's skill is not accepted. **

**Rule of Cool trumps that, or will be saved for later.**

**2 from Iwa (Land of Earth), 3 from Kumo (Land of Lightning) , 2 from Kusa (Land of Grass) and two from Taki (Land of Waterfalls).**

**It's going to be a loooooong book.**

**...**

**Also, I apologize if you're annoyed with the inconsistencies in regard to the way I capitalize the names of villages or titles of particular shinobi. It's a major pain to keep track of it all, so I do whatever feels more natural at the time.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	9. Book 1 - Interlude 1

**Big shoutout to Outcast001 for hooking me up with the OC's I needed.**

**Unfortunately, there's only so much Zabuza I can write in one go without needing to take a break and explore other stories.**

**This one in particular is staged at two places, far away from the southern sea.**

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><p>Drilling the newly dubbed 'Collaboration Jutsu: Demon Wind Bomb' was a terrible pain in Sasuke's neck. There's only so many times he could take Naruto fumbling the throw before wanting to punch his lights out. The fact that Sakura had been alternating between hitting him and the dobe with false surroundings genjutsu meant that, more often than not, the transformed shuriken would fly clean past the training dummy instead of grazing it like it's supposed to. Needless to say, Kakashi wasn't much of a help either, reading up on his favorite series took precedence over training his squad personally...<p>

"Dammit Naruto! I told you not to throw that hard! Hitting the ground still hurts!" Snapped the Uchiha, dusting himself off for the umpteenth time. The dobe couldn't throw a fuma shuriken to save his life, and it was seriously grating, given the fact that the only way the technique could have punch was if Sasuke was the one to transform. "Didn't they teach you how to throw these at the academy?"

The blonde gave him a blank look. "Uhm...no. I don't remember it very well, but I'm pretty sure Mizuki-sensei told me that I'm not supposed to touch the big shurikens for some reason..." Actually, when he thought about it, Naruto didn't get the chance to familiarize himself with almost any of the non-standard equipment due to various reasons. He didn't mind at the time since it meant less work, but right now it seemed to be a problem.

Ready to reprimand him for lacking in yet another ninja field, Sasuke paused, realizing what his teammate had actually said. He was explicitly told not to participate? Why? It made no sense. Sure, Naruto was downright terrible at most areas, fully earning the title of dead-last, but he did have his specialties; stealth and taijutsu came to mind. However, hearing that he was intentionally kept away from classes meant that he'll be lacking in some areas, which wasn't really good. If Naruto skipped out on some of the basic skills, it could cost them missions in the future.

Knowing that, Sasuke did what was the most logical thing to do - he bugged Kakashi about it.

While the jonin was enjoying his downtime, his eye did wander over to his precious students every once in a while. After the third time he noticed Sasuke ending up in the dirt, and writing off the possibility that Naruto was doing it on purpose, Kakashi took to counting how long it would take for the Uchiha to figure out that his teammate is obviously lacking in a basic shinobi skill for some reason. It took exactly three more tumbles before the boy's patience reached its' end.

With a sigh, the lazy jonin got up, walked over to where the two boys were arguing over the difficulty of transforming into a normal shuriken, and proceeded to bonk both on the head. Having gained their attention, he took the fuma shuriken they used as a transforming model, aimed at the target, and let loose. It flew as expected, cutting a thin line in the target's side, just deep enough for them to see that the shuriken actually made contact. After Naruto stopped staring at it in awe, the copycat proceeded to explain the differences in form between throwing a regular and a fuma.

After a couple more botched attempts, the blonde was letting loose shuriken after shuriken, each one hitting roughly the same spot. He didn't need to be as good as Sasuke, but the way he was was, simply put, unacceptable. It didn't take long for them to correctly perform it the first time. Naruto would toss a myriad of pointy things at the target, hiding the transformed Sasuke along with them. As soon as he flew past the target, Sasuke would release the jutsu, and let loose with a fireball. After a few tries, the dummy was riddled from the front, and charred from the back.

Technically, the academy-level transformation jutsu only cloaked the shape of the caster and did nothing to change it. The actual transformation jutsu, used on the field by shinobi throughout the world, was considerably more chakra intensive, but covered the physical aspect as well. The only problem was that the technique couldn't make the user larger than he or she actually is.

Shrinking wasn't an issue, as the amount of chakra lying dormant in any shinobi could easily take the concetrated mass that came with compression; adding _more_ size and mass required nature transformation, and only earth and water did the trick, due to their more stable nature when compared to the other three. The field-ready transformation jutsu was D-ranked, and was usually learned naturally after some use of the inferior academy version. Further refinement of the jutsu was only practiced by infiltration, espionage and assassination specialists.

"Oy, teme! That hurt!" Came a shriek from the blonde. The accused didn't even bother looking at him, "You should've dodged."

"Oh yeah? Dodge this!"

And so began yet another in what would be a very long series of brawls between the two boys.

Neither Kakashi or Sakura decided to intervene, the former yawning and turning a page of his book, and the latter being too busy admiring the fact that she made the stream next to the training field look pink-colored. She wondered if she could cast a genjutsu that made everything taste like bacon; that would make dieting sooooo much easier...

"Kakashi-sensei, should we stop them?" Sakura asked, concern fairly obvious on her face. The stream slowly returned to its natural color as her focus dwindled. The jonin in question looked up, blinked, and disappeared. Before she realized what had happened, Sakura heard two yelps, turning to see both Naruto and Sasuke half-buried in the ground. Kakashi dusted himself off and returned to the spot he was sitting on earlier, picking up exactly where he left off.

Comically enough, the boys still kept snarling and shouting at each other, even when buried up to their shoulders in the earth. Apparently the statement that boys will be boys holds true even for genin. Sakura gave a sigh, then scurried over to Sasuke to start digging him out of the ground. She'd do the same for Naruto later, when he finally accepts that he'll never catch up to Sasuke. Guts are good and all, but nothing beats the talent, drive and coolness of her beloved Sasuke...

* * *

><p>It was a fairly standard morning in the Village Hidden in the Waterfall. The sky was cloudless and clear, and the sun was shining brightly, even though it had risen only minutes ago. Most the civilian populace still slept, and what few shinobi were stationed inside the village itself were struggling to keep alert. Past the entrance, the village square and leader's palace, began the training fields. In Taki, they essentially fanned out from a single point, spreading towards the northwestern wall. Most were open fields or jutsu-made training areas, but there were a couple with natural caves, coves and crevices that gave the training fields an even more 'wild' look than most the training fields had.<p>

As one of the five minor shinobi villages, besides Kusa, Yuki, Ame and Hoshi, Taki stood north of the Land of Fire, hidden in a tropical forest that grew due to the natural crater-like shape of the land itself. It did not have a Kage, not in title nor skill, but it had a leader. The leader was considered the village's guardian, as well as the supreme authority on the village's unique asset, the Hero's Water - a special water that converted itself into chakra upon entering the body. Usage of it stressed the body and the inner gates, causing deterioration that would drastically shorten one's lifespan if used regularly. While many of the village clans tried to circumvent that cost over the years, not one idea really worked, which ultimately led to a law being passed that prohibits experimentation with the water. While everyone knew it wasn't a good solution, it was by far the safest one, and as a minor village whose only real defense was the brilliant concealment system it used, they simply couldn't afford taking a risk that might hurt their already feeble ranks.

However, despite the moderate isolation, Taki's daily life was very similar to any other major village. They had three-man squads, they took missions, they gave out bingo books and kept a library of Hiden and Kinjutsu. Some were brave enough to say that after the ruins of Uzu, Taki's jutsu library was the hardest place to get into in the whole world. More than once did the patrols have to take down Otogakure scouts who wandered a bit too close to the village for its' liking.

However, this one day would have something uncommon happening. There would be a visiting ambassador from Iwa, sent in order to clarify some things regarding mission authority for jobs at the Iwa-Taki border. Like all foreign shinobi who were invited to Taki, the man would have to find a pre-determined clearing and wait for a squad of shinobi to escort them disoriented and blindfolded to the village itself.

The ambassador intended to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly and efficiently as possible, and that's why he requested to set out alone. In his place, the traveler walked, navigating his way through the Land of Waterfalls for the first time in his life.

At the time, he did not know that he would be late, and that he would have to ask one of Taki's most promising young teams for help and directions in order to make it on time. Following the scroll was taxing work sometimes, but he didn't complain; he had no right to. A debt was a debt, and paying one was inevitable. He hopes that the negotiations will be short.

Takigakure's Training field 13 was often avoided by less-experienced teams, or generally by people who are weak of heart. Despite the serene aura of the open field and the soothing hum of the waterfall, the field was infamous for being a site of constant explosions, floods and general noise. It was the training ground for the Lucky 13, Jonin Manabu Hashigawa's genin team. It was currently on fire.

"WHO THE HELL INVENTS A GAME CALLED EXPLOSIVE TAG TAG!?" Screamed a auburn-haired boy, zigzagging past the barrage of kunai and explosives thrown at him. While he prided himself on the fact that he was built like an oak, and was growing to become as tall as one, his imposing frame did little to help him in the day's chosen 'training'. He had almost singed his jacket for the sixth time that day, and it was slowly starting to get to him. Kichirou Fukui was not a very happy genin at the moment.

A bit further off, his teammate, a short and dark-eyed boy with hair as white as pure marble leapt to the side, getting tossed like a ragdoll due to one of the many, many explosions. While he wasn't nearly as bothered as his taller teammate, he was more concerned, due to the implications of his results. As a bladesman, getting bombarded by explosive tags was pretty high on the scale of least desirable scenarios. With fire, smoke and shock coming from every direction, it was tough focusing on an opponent. That, and the fact that sensei insisted that they make the 'tag' part of explosive tag tag work by actually having to chase him down, made the whole endeavor a lot more taxing than he considered necessary. Being fast helped, but only to a point. He sighed. "Aya and her explosive tags..."

Almost immediately, a voice came from his side, its owner somehow picking up on the words through the constant barrage of blasts. "Something wrong with my tags? Oh, I know! You want me to make them higher-yield, isn't it? SENSEI, CAN I CALL A TIME OUT? I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BIGGER TAGS!"

The girl had bright orange hair, something that often served as a joke to her teammates, due to the color being completely counterproductive on stealth assignments, as well as deep teal eyes. Her skin was very pale, something uncharacteristic for a Taki shinobi, but otherwise not taking away from her appearance. She was sweating profusely, and the braid she usually wore her hair in was just about to undo itself from all the jumping and dashing around. Part of her wanted to scream in joy when she saw her tags working their magic like this; the other part was too busy keeping her alive and whole.

A bit further away, a man hung upside-down from a tree branch, staring intently at the three genin running for their lives. Up above, three of his water clones were going ham, throwing tags and kunai everywhere. While technically a medic-nin, Manabu served as a frontline shinobi due to his unnaturally high chakra reserves, an advantage that saved more than a few lives when the big fights broke out. He wore the standard light vest every Taki shinobi wore after making chunin, kept his hair ANBU-short, and wore his headband around his neck. He also very much enjoyed his job as a teacher.

"Aaaand...TIME'S UP." He flipped through half a dozen hand seals, sending water from the small lake on the field after the students, forcefully dragging them into the lake and putting out any stray fires that are left along the way. He concluded that trying the bigger tags is an idea he'll be entertaining soon enough.

"Finally!" Shouted Kichirou, splashing down into the lake without concern for his clothes. Getting the jacket wet was alright, burning it was a completely different story. He was just glad that the worst of it was done. After a quick wash, they'd start combat practice, something he enjoyed far more than running for his life from the creations of his mad bomber teammate. Seriously, who the hell likes explosions that much...

Soon enough, he was joined by his two teammates, both of whom casually leapt over him and proceeded to strip on their way to the waterfall, where they intended to take a very, very cold shower. If something could be a peculiarity about Team 13, it wasn't the nigh-infinite morale they had, or the fact that they hold the best mission record for a genin team in the village; If there was something peculiar about that team, it was the fact that seeing each other in the nude didn't bother them at all. Nobody knew of the quirk, though, so they never really needed to explain. Daisuke doubted that they themselves knew why it doesn't bother them. He figures that it's most likely because all three of them are pragmatics at heart, so forcing modesty was just a waste of time.

After the shower, it'd usually boil down to Kichirou fighting either of his teammates, leaving the remaining one to go meditate (in Aya's case), or harass their Sensei (in Daisuke's case). This time, however, it wasn't so simple. Apparently, round two was ninja hide and seek with lunch on the line.

However, before they could scatter, their Sensei turned to the tree line, obviously expecting someone to show up. The man wore a standard red Iwa uniform, as well as a headband around his head. The only thing that showed his status as a political figure was the fact that his flak jacket was the diplomatic version without pockets, used as formal wear whenever shinobi needed to appear as shinobi in public. He gave them a friendly wave before jogging over.

"Hello there! Hope I'm not interrupting something?" His face was a bit red, probably due to navigating unfamiliar terrain. While shinobi always kept themselves in great physical shape, they also preferred moving through familiar areas. The unknown had a tendency of getting you winded quickly.

The jonin looked the man over, not noticing anything that might classify him as exceptionally dangerous. Every shinobi was dangerous to a degree, but this one didn't seem to stick out in any way. That only made him tighten his guard. "No, not really. What can we do for you, Iwa-nin?"

The man smiled, dusting his clothes off. "Well, I need to get to the Ishibate Estate, there is something I need to discuss with the clan head. However, since I tried taking a shortcut through the training fields, I ended up getting lost. Don't suppose you could help a fellow shinobi out?"

Manabu eyed the suspicious ninja one more time before shrugging. "Team 13, your new assignment is a D-rank mission. You are to escort this man to the Ishibate clan Estate. Payment will be received in the form of Ice-Cream. Go now, and don't look back!" He finished with a dramatic wave of his hand, making the genin almost cringe.

However, they knew better than to call out their sensei for being lame, and simply took formation around the ambassador and headed west towards the man's destination.

* * *

><p>Killing an Iwa ambassador isn't something the young man expected to do. Then again, he was supposed to be trained for anything and everything, so he guessed assassination fell under one of those categories. It was times like that that he was glad he carried a shovel around; hellishly convenient for getting rid of a body.<p>

In truth, he didn't need to manually bury the man, but a part of him knew that going through the ritual of digging and burying gave meaning to the kill, it gave the opponent some of the honor he had lost dying to a silent killing technique. Honor was important to some shinobi, and the young man still didn't find a way to figure out if his target cares about it or not from appearance alone. Not like he can simply ask them, that'd give away the fact that he was actively trying to shove a shovel blade into the side of their neck, and would therefore be counterproductive, even if it did reveal the shinobi's stance on honor.

"Psst, Aya, how are we supposed to act around these diplomatic bigshots?"Murmured the taller boy, thinking that his whisper was quiet enough not to get picked up on. He was wrong.

"I don't know. Treat him like you'd treat one of the other teams' sensei. Just don't call him sensei." Whispered the girl, subconsciously picking up pace.

"Hey, hey. Knock it off you two. He's a shinobi as well, he can probably hear you." Muttered the white-haired boy, never taking his eyes off of their 'client'. It was terribly fishy to him, but he couldn't go against orders. Best hope sensei is tagging along, or that the man really isn't a threat.

Soon enough, they were moving outside of the training field area, and into the village itself. The Ishibate clan were one of Taki's three major clans, specializing in ninja arts and tools over standard jutsu. The main difference between a jutsu and a ninja art is the medium. A jutsu can happen as long as the user has a hand to help mould chakra with, and knows how to use the jutsu in question. A ninja art requires something in order to be performed. The infamous, and improperly named, Hidden Mist Jutsu is in fact a ninja art, as it uses water. The origin of said water can be chakra based, however.

The Ishibate were known for abusing the natural properties of ninja arts to manipulate the battlefield in many innovative ways, most famous of which was the trick when one ninja conjures up a water jutsu one shoots off a fire-based jutsu, and the last one then uses an art to transform the water into oil. The technicalities of tricks like that are what kept the clan the most respected academics in the entire village. They were also the primary sealmasters of the village, even though other families dabbled in the art on occasion.

What the Iwa Ambassador had to do with them was anyone's guess, as far as Daisuke was concerned. Still, he kept his mouth shut like a good genin, and led the group to the estates.

"Alright sir, this is it. Would you like us to stay and show you the way back to the leader's offices when you're done?"

The politician shook his head, smiled, then reached deep into his pocket. After fishing around for a while, he brought up a tattered page from a book, and handed it out to Aya. "Take this as my way of apologizing for inconveniencing you like this. If I'm not mistaken, you are the shinobi that could benefit most from that page." With that, the man walked towards the gate, greeted the guard, and was walked inside.

The three genin immediately looked at their 'reward'. It was a hand-written page, full of sealing formulas and theories. It took Aya a couple of seconds to realize what they were about.

"No way...NO WAY!" She squealed, bringing the paper even closer to her face. Her teammates looked on in confusion. Keeping in mind that most her waist had scrolls, pouches and even her headband hanging from it, it was quite the sight seeing her hop up and down all excited like that. Even her braid, not longer than shoulder-length, flopped up and down with every giddy hop.

"Eh, mind explaining what has you this excited? I'm glad you're happy, but you're also being loud..." Muttered her teammate, deciding to lean against the Estate's walls for the time being.

"This...this is a formula for an explosive tag." The girl mumbled absently, eyes still fixed on the tattered page. "And by the looks of it... it's a design that allows the same tag to explode multiple times..."

Kichirou looked on in horror, while Daisuke gave no more reaction than a momentary widening of his eyes. Both boys immediately knew the implications of these news. Their mad bomber teammate just got a _really cool_ new toy to blast everything with. They quickly decided to veto explosive tag tag the next time it came up in the training rotation...

After a while, Aya broke from her daze, copied the contents of the page in her own sealing black book, then stored it away in a pocket scroll she carried around when not on missions. She would soon be having lots of fun reverse engineering the whole thing, but right now the promised payment took priority. She was in the mood for vanilla.

"Alright! Mission complete! We go to the White Wave Ice-Cream shop!" She stated dramatically, then proceeded to drag her teammates towards the village square. The unfortunate boys sighed, giving up to their fate. The shop she mentioned was pretty high-end, so it made sense that they'd go there to cash in on their sensei's promise.

* * *

><p>Hilko Ishibate was a troublesome child to most of her clan. It was expected from all Ishibate to pass the early aptitude test and graduate the academy within a year. They were a family that prided themselves on non-linear thinking and intelligence, so it was embarrassing to have a child, the granddaughter to the clan head, fail that simple test. Due to her birth, she couldn't be just cast out of the clan, as failures usually were, but measures had to be taken, and in her case it was withdrawing any and all support from the clan. If she wanted to keep pursuing the life of a ninja, she wouldn't have any help. Or so they thought.<p>

In truth, the clan head's elder sister, a retired kunoichi pushing seventy years, took pity on the child. She took her under her wing and taught her everything she possibly could teach to a child her age. While their success was limited at first, the woman had nothing but time, so she tried every angle she could come up with until she figured out how best to teach. It wasn't long after that that young Hilko's progress began rising exponentially, despite the girl's weak frame and poor health. The old woman prided herself on her grand niece's progress, and planned to entrust her with the family's heirloom, a ninja art to topple all other arts, the Ishibate clan's secret weapon.

However, the girl wasn't nearly mature enough, as evidenced by the fact that her teammates had died on their first C-rank mission. It turned out that the client had lied about the mission's expected rank, and the truth was revealed too late. These days, she was either out doing menial D-ranks in order to support herself, playing shogi with those few elders that knew her as a decent challenge, or simply sat in her room on the east side of the compound and read book after book.

After the scandalous deaths of her teammates, some of the clan elders had decided to remove her before she became too much of an issue. She already had poor health for a shinobi, so it wouldn't be too risky to simply poison her. It did not take long for the conspiring elders to choose a suitable candidate to deliver the poison. After all, poisoning her food during clan meals was far too risky, and could endanger them as well.

No, the ideal solution was to find an unwitting pawn to do their bidding, bring her one of those sweets she likes so much, say it's to cheer her up. The 'assassin' was dispatched, sent toward the girl's room. He himself harbored no ill will towards the girl, she was a shinobi and he wasn't. He had no business liking or disliking her. He was simply a member of the clan who decided to take the easy life and be an elder's steward, or more simply put, bitch. He didn't mind though, they were too busy caring about themselves to spare the time to harass him seriously...

"Ah, miss Hilko, there you are. I was told to bring this to you..." The man began, noticing that the girl was deep into her reading. He leaned over to check what it was, reading the title out loud. "Tale of an utterly gutsy ninja, huh? Never heard of it."

The girl appeared not to have noticed him, as she only casually turned to the next page. The man, apparently intrigued with the book, decided to stay leaning over her and read. Soon, however, there was the sound of someone hurrying down the corridor. Before either of them could react, a man in an Iwa shinobi's uniform appeared at the door, his eyes narrowing at the steward.

Almost instantly, the Iwa ninja launched a fist into the poor man's stomach, sending him to the ground, doubling-over. He then turned to the girl, placing a hand over her mouth to prevent her from making noise. Noise would complicate things.

"It's alright, it's alright. I was sent here to protect you, this man was sent here to poison you." He slowly removed his hand, never once breaking eye contact with the girl. The man on the floor had apparently lost consciousness due to the pain. It was an open handed strike, so it shouldn't harm his organs too much.

"I...I am confused. You say you're here to save me, and yet you wear the uniform of Iwa, a bordering land we often have disputes with. Please explain yourself, or I will press the panic button hidden under my desk." Needless to say, her hand was already hovering just below the desk's surface.

The man blinked, shook his hand, then reestablished eye contact. As a genin, the girl wouldn't recognize the reaction-slowing genjutsu she was placed under. Even if she did, her fate was sealed. The young man, disguised as the Iwa Ambassador, knocked the girl out, then proceeded to escape out the window with her, the man and the cake. Fortunately, the girl's room was close enough to the wall not to warrant any inconvenient guards.

They disappeared back into the forests.

* * *

><p>"Uh..." The girl woke up, noticing that she was tied to a tree in the middle of what looked like one of Taki's many training grounds. Her hands were bound with all fingers separate, the way shinobi are meant to be bound. Whoever this Iwa kidnapper is, he was serious. Knowing full well that trying to struggle would only hurt her and drain her energy, Hilko instead decided to start looking around. It was already dark.<p>

The Ambassador was nowhere in sight, a fire was set up a few steps away from her, the steward lying down almost motionlessly on the other side. His hands were not nearly as tightly bound. The training field itself was a heavily forested one, used for shurikenjutsu practice, as well as tracking. That placed her somewhere between fields 21 and 27.

Soon enough, the Iwa-nin showed up. He dropped some more logs on the flames, then threw what seemed to be a pot onto a makeshift stand over the fire. He noticed that she was awake immediately. "Ah, you're up. I need to finish this business with you quick, else my cover will be blown." With that said, he walked over to her, holding a piece of paper in his hands.

"Three things are about to happen. You will see why what I told you is the truth, you will be given a seal that makes blowing my cover cost you your life, and you'll see me kill the man over there." He then pressed the sheet onto her arm, channeling a bit of chakra into it and imprinting the written seal onto the girl's skin. She reflexively tried to withdraw, but tied down, she didn't have any room to escape.

The seal burned itself into the girl's skin, right below the left elbow. It was shaped like a circle with an array of rectangular symbols etched into it. It was black in color, and didn't hurt nearly as bad as she expected it to.

"As I've said. That seal there makes sure you die if you ever bring up what happened with me." That was a vicious lie, but it was necessary. The seal itself was actually nothing more than a blank seal, timed to fade over a period of six months. It was useless in almost every situation except this one. He'd have to write a chapter on placebo seals when he got the time...

"And now..." He wandered back to the man, sticking something under his nose. With a gasp, the steward woke up, looking around with a frightened look on his face. The young man went about calming him down.

"Easy, easy... Here, have some of this cake, it'll help clear your mind." He said, bringing up the plate that held the poisoned cake towards the man.

Not knowing any better, the poor fool swallowed the whole thing, apparently relaxing. However, not a minute passed, and he suddenly started choking on...something. No matter how hard he hacked and coughed, whatever was lodged in his throat simply refused to leave. If it kept going like this, it was a very real possibility that he would suffocate.

"The White Camellia poison. A real bitch to brew, but creates an allergic reaction that closes up the victim's throat, blocking off the supply of oxygen. His vision will slowly bleed color, then become completely still. Due to the oxygen deprivation, his mind's cells will begin dying rapidly, at a pace no medic is able to keep in check. His death is a painful one." Spoke the young man, voice emotionless as he gazed into the flames.

After another agonizing minute, the steward stopped squirming, a fresh corpse on training field 25. The young man sighed and stood up. With two quick steps, he was picking up the dead body, carrying it off to the side, to a small clearing. The girl only watched, mind too shocked to come up with an appropriate reaction to what's happening to her.

"Now... now you watch me bury him."

As he said that, the man produced a shovel from his long sleeve, and began digging the ground at the clearing. The steward's dead eyes were turned towards the fire, his face frozen in a look of ugly agony. The man kept shoveling, feeling the scent of death and dirt reach his nostrils. It was a fool's job, but someone had to do it...

"You see, the old lady who took you in as her student, she only now realized what had happened. Only now, three hours after the poison was sent, did she catch wind of what was going on. I had to intervene, you are too important to let die." He spoke, not bothering to take his eyes away from the ditch he was slowly creating. His rhythmic motions blended in perfectly with the sounds of the night and the silent bubbling of water at a nearby training field, one with a waterfall.

"I had to protect you, because you can't protect yourself. You need to become a stronger soul, one that can do the protecting instead of needing it..."

"W-What are you talking about?" Stammered the girl, somehow finding her voice after the morbid show she was forced to watch.

"Take ANBU for example. All they do is train and do missions. There's nothing more to their lives than that. You want to know what that leads to? I'll tell you either way," he paused, wiping the formed sweat from his forehead, "It leads to people who are strong, tough, and cold enough to take down a kage if enough band together. All that, just because they could focus their attention on something."

He stopped working, resting the shovel over his shoulder as he turned around to face the girl he kidnapped and tied to a tree. "And look, the ANBU aren't picky about who joins in. Idiots and geniuses are equals behind a mask. Just imagine what you could become if someone of your capacity was to focus on one single goal- becoming tough."

He shrugged, then went back to work. "That's just my opinion, anyway. I saved you now, so you'll live long enough to make the difference I need you to make. Whichever path you choose to take from here on is your call alone."

"What path? What call? You just made me watch you kill a member of my clan, and now you're talking about goals and making a difference!? What's wrong with you!?" She was furious, she was upset, she felt betrayed... All these feelings raged in Hilko's heart, blurring her vision and making her pulse race. What kind of sick game was this?

"See? Now you're upset, as you should be. But can a ninja really afford to be upset like that? Does it not take focus away from your goal? What is your goal, little girl? What is it that you live for?"

He got no answer, only a dark look and silence. With a shrug, he kept on digging. The hole was gaining size, so he figured that it'd be a nice, shallow grave in a matter of minutes. The one thing left to do is to convince the girl that she needs to become strong.

"How long do you think the old lady is going to be around to protect you? What if they go after her next? I won't be here to save anyone anymore, you know."

"Just shut up!"

He shook his head. "That temper. It's not what a good ninja is like. Take a look at me, for example. I've just forced a man to eat a cake I knew was poisoned, just so I could complete my mission. Now I'm digging the grave for that very man, and will in fact light a candle and offer up a prayer for his soul the moment I'm done with his earthly body. Emotions are to be suppressed. They have no use on the field."

After that, neither of them said anything. The girl closed her eyes and wept silently, and the man finished the grave he was digging. He gently lowered the steward's body into it, covering it up again and kneeling down to offer a prayer. After that was done, he took the pot off of the fire, and began nibbling at whatever he had cooked for himself.

"You don't have a proper goal, girlie, that's why you're weak. That's why you failed that test all those years ago. Seven years, and you're still no better than you were then." That was also a lie, but it played to his advantage. A girl that young in that kind of emotional state wouldn't be able to recall the astounding progress she had made as a shinobi over the past years.

"If you want to be strong, to not have to rely on the old woman or whoever is going to protect you later, you need to become like me and the ANBU. Cold, subdued, calculating, dangerous. It's a do or die world out there, kid."

Having said that, the man picked up his shovel, put away the beads he had used to pray, and walked away into the darkness of the forest.

* * *

><p>The next day Iwa sent a letter by hawk explaining that they've recalled their ambassador on an emergency, and that their shinobi will stay away from the disputed border until such a time when the issue is resolved.<p>

Ishibate clan members searched the training fields, finding the shaken Hilko at field 25 just half an hour after the strange man left. When interrogated, the girl only showed the seal, explaining that it would kill her should she talk. The village's best sealmasters could only repeat her words, claiming that there was no way to get the truth without sacrificing the girl's life.

Three days after the incident, Hilko went to her mentor and demanded to be allowed into the Taki ANBU desensitization program. She stood in the candlelit attic they used as their classroom, scrolls and books of various sizes and shapes scattered around on the many surfaces present.

The old woman, Futaki Ishibate, sat in her comfortable chair, looking at her protégée's pleading face with an amused expression on her face. It was so unlike the withdrawn and quiet Hilko to request something so radical... but, if she was honest about her wish...

"I believe..." The woman drawled, endlessly amused with the tense look on her grandniece's face, "I believe that something like that can be arranged, my dear." She finished, tapping her fingers on the wooden armrest.

She licked her lips, taking a quick sip from the glass that stood on the small table to her right. The ruby red liquid disappeared down her throat, its' only remnant a small crimson ring at the bottom of the glass. A smile came to her, and she did not bother concealing it.

"But I wonder if you can take something like the ANBU program. The earliest you can apply is ten years from now, and that's only if you make jonin, my precious Hilko..." she continued, watching as the shadows flickered across the young girl's face due to the candlelight.

"Maybe the elders were right... maybe you should be removed from the house altogether, hmm?" A brief pause, then more, "You've caused nothing but trouble since that fiasco in the Land of Grass..."

She stood up, letting her robe flow down to the ground, dragging along the thick carpet as she walked around the table and towards the girl. Walking around her a few times, she paid extra attention to every little detail.

The long, coal-dark hair, it's length perfectly suited for one of the clan's less used ninja arts. It flowed down in a long, slightly wavy line, reaching all the way to her thighs. Most Kunoichi would never keep their hair that long, simply because of the impracticality. But young Hilko thought she knew better...

Her outfit, the standard mesh thrown over a long-sleeved shirt. It looked as tomboyish as it could, but it looked comfortable. Besides, it wasn't right for a young girl such as herself to be running around with a bare chest... some men just couldn't contain themselves...

But most interesting were the gauntlets. Primitive pieces of armor, made from old steel, used back when the tailed beasts were still running wild... They were a family heirloom, left behind by that foolish grandfather of hers. Etchings of snakes and vines, decorations more than anything else, the gauntlets were the girl's last line of defense. The weapons sealed within were perfect in their simplicity, effective at keeping the opponent at bay, and nothing else.

Perhaps...perhaps the girl could endure the ANBU. There was a steel to her look, and there was no doubt about that, but it was a big favor she was asking for...

"Oh, very well... I will send out my letters and you will be accepted into ANBU. I do hope you know what you're getting yourself into, child."

The girl nodded, a small look of relief briefly sparking in her eyes, only to be overshadowed by determination once more.

"I understand, Futaki-sama. I promise I will not fail you."

"That's what they all say... now off with you! Be gone!"

In a hurry, the long-haired genin ducked out of the room, descending down the stairs. If she became strong, she wouldn't be at the mercy of men stronger than her. She would have what she needs to carve her own path, to show Futaki-sama and the rest of the clan that she is indeed worthy of the Ishibate name.

* * *

><p>Team 13 ate vanilla and strawberry ice cream, due to all the chocolate being sold by the time they arrived to the store.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Right, hope you like the OC's. Only one of them is mine, though.<strong>


	10. Book 1 - Chapter 8

**Ok, so give it to me clearly. Was I so wrong to reject the standard godlike, everybody lives, time-travel format?**

**I mean, I see stories out there with 10k words having hundreds of reviews over mine with half the plot. Understandably, I'm upset.**

**Just what is it that my story is missing? Am I not updating enough? Did the big-ass warning in the front scare people away? Was the intro wrong for not being a flashback that has Naruto dying fighting against/alongside Sasuke against Madara and the Juubi?**

**Seriously, I'm like super upset.**

**Oh, and if you don't have music of your own while you're reading, find a collection of Naruto OST online. The fight scene is more interesting to read with the tracks 'Bad Situation', 'Strong and Strike' and 'Turn Over' playing in the background.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Not many sights this world has to offer would strike Itachi Uchiha as 'humbling'. However, seeing the two former swordsmen of the mist pull out all the stops and go after each other gave him pause. The display of raw power coming from the two men in the distance was almost unbelievable. They were miles away, yet their chakra was so thick in the air that his sharingan eyes had no difficulty picking up on them, deteriorated sight or not.<p>

Even the boy seemed to pick up on it, as he cast a nervous look at the massive water twister that had formed in the distance. Poor kid must be fearing for his master's well-being; against Kisame, the fear is justified. Fighting against the monster of the hidden mist was akin to going against a force of nature, there was simply no way around him. You either went through the man, or you went down. It's that unparalleled might, along with the man's sympathetic personality that led the Uchiha to thinking of him as his only remaining friend in the world.

In reality, Haku was nervous because he couldn't fight at Zabuza's side. The lightning blade had crippled him for life, battles like the one playing out in front of his eyes were forever out of his league. Yet still the boy remembered the feeling of fulfillment whenever his actions as a shinobi made his mentor's life easier, if only a little. Even though he was pure of heart, the way of ninja was already ingrained into him, taking roots that he will never truly let go of. Perhaps one day he could go back to being a weapon for Zabuza...

"Do you think they're going to be alright? Those jutsu look really dangerous." Started the boy, half expecting the Uchiha to ignore him like he always did. He knew not what kind of pain the man was suffering if the only way to deal with it was to numb himself to the very core.

Surprisingly enough, the Akatsuki answered. "Your master... He is a formidable shinobi. Perhaps Kisame was wrong about his chances." He turned to the boy, staring at him with blood-red sharingan eyes. "Why do you follow him? Men like us walk only towards death. Would you follow him that far?"

The boy answered immediately, turning his attention back to the raging fight. "I already have. Your brother's sensei had almost killed me trying to get to Zabuza. Fortunately, my actions managed to change the dynamic of the fight..." He wanted to add that he believed that they would have both probably died anyway, but the Akatsuki didn't need to know that.

Even now, weeks after their encounter with the ninja team from Konoha and the showdown on the bridge, Haku still wondered what led them to spare the lives of two missing ninja. Maybe it was Naruto? The boy's strange charm, his determination and view of the world... they influenced them both, Haku more than Zabuza.

It got him to think... think about what would happen if Zabuza was to actually die. Would he just give up and take his own life, having failed to protect him? Is that something Zabuza would want? Or should he perhaps go on, pick up the sword his mentor had carried and walk the steps he intended to walk? Is his destiny to realize Zabuza's ambitions if the swordsman himself couldn't? And what would happen after that? Pursue his own dream? His dream was always to be at Zabuza's side...

"Foolish." Muttered the Uchiha, turning his eyes to the fight as well. Far away in the distance, far enough that only sharingan eyes could see, the shoreline was visible. The voyage they shared would soon be over. The next day, they would part ways for good, heading to Kumo and awaiting news of which demon died in the Village hidden in the Mist. While he wasn't all too fond of the man, Itachi would prefer Zabuza to walk away the victor; an enemy you know is far easier to defeat than one you do not.

A stray flock of seagulls flew overhead, desperately trying to place as much distance between themselves and the two monsters that clashed on the sea. The usually clear blue water was now restless and dark, shaken up by the bladesmen's battle. The civilian passengers had retreated into their cabins, their captain shouting for everyone to take shelter from the approaching storm.

There was panic and confusion in their eyes and faces. They ran around pointlessly, trying to explain how a twister simply appeared out of thin air. Their theories were cut short when the first wave hit. The two shinobi had already subconsciously channeled chakra to their feet, sticking them to the surface of the ship and preventing them from getting washed away by the water. Some civilians weren't so capable, and ended up being thrown all over. The boy did his best to help them all, but one or two were lost in the raging seas.

Itachi closed his eyes and spun towards the cabins. He had seen enough.

"Irrelevant. There is only one thing that matters..." silent words that left his lips, lost in the howl of the sea and the screams of men. The Akatsuki member moved into his room, easily sidestepping the man that went tumbling towards him as yet another wave hit the ship.

He was one of the three remaining Uchiha in the world, everyone else was dead, by his hand, or by Danzo's. He had protected the leaf Village, the same village that had failed to protect his clan from themselves. The Sarutobi was an old man, a relic from a bygone era, just like the warhawk. Yet old men like them are who shape the world, who make the decisions that define the lives of their children and grandchildren. He would be the martyr who would take the weight of their sins onto himself...not only theirs, but the sins of every power-drunk Uchiha and Konoha shinobi. He would be the one who would make sure that his clan's name would be cleansed through his younger brother.

He was Itachi Uchiha, he was a martyr.

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><p>As one of the seven ninja swordsmen of the hidden Mist, Zabuza Momochi was accustomed to varying amounts of killing intent from his earliest days. Very few men could exert the kind of pressure that he would notice. Yet as he stood now, a mad grin hidden under his bandages, Zabuza was sure that the junior swordsman was one of those men. The bloodlust in the air was palpable, and his sword almost <em>itched<em> to be sated. Licking his lips, the demon charged at his foe with his blade at the ready.

A battle to prepare him for Yagura, for his ultimate goal. Yes, the Akatsuki was a worthy opponent in every possible way. Gone were his meaningless jokes and perpetual grin; the shark-man's eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was a thin line. The sharkskin danced in his arms, cutting air, water and chakra. It too craved blood, yet its' hunger was far more ravenous and uncontrolled than the one of the Kubikiribocho.

Kisame's heart was pumping. He didn't remember the last time that had happened. He giddily threw himself at the approaching swordsman, blade poised to take his arm off. As expected, the attack was avoided and followed by a counterattack, but that only made things more interesting. Scales ground against steel, the shrill scrape lost in the sound of the raging waters.

"Hah...haha...hahaha!" The monster's laugh became uncontrollable. "You've been holding back, I see! Come, give me your best shot!" With that, he slid under a horizontal slash, moving across water as easily as he would across land. He made a sign with one hand and swung his sword with the other, forcing the demon to take to the air or risk losing his legs; with the opening created, he let loose with the Water Style: Wild Water Wave Jutsu, sending his foe crashing into the twister and disappearing into the water.

Of course, that wouldn't do the demon in...no, that was far too weak a jutsu to hurt him, even with the twister. The real pain was yet to begin. Kisame began chaining hand signs.

"Water Style: Five Feeding Sharks!" He shouted as he shoved his hand into the water, letting chakra flow out and take the form of the namesake sharks. The beasts were not all that durable or long-lasting, but they were ideal for cranking up the pressure when needed. If he wanted to, he could even make them detonate, a trick he developed after watching fellow Akatsuki Deidara in action one time.

With the pressure on, Kisame took a deep breath, licked his lips, and extended his senses. Zabuza didn't have the time to pop a water breathing jutsu, so he had to come up for air sooner or later. Perhaps he had hit something underwater? Sometimes good shinobi have bad luck...

Before he could entertain the idea further, Kisame had to dive into the water, only barely dodging the Kubikiribocho that spun through the air like a shuriken, intending to take his head off in one hit. He dispelled the sharks, realizing in a split second that the pressure was indeed on, but on _him._

Zabuza grabbed the blade he had his clone throw, landing squarely in the center of the twister. Kisame took to the water, and Samehada's users hardly ever released their blade. That could only mean one thing... Zabuza spun around, deflecting the tip of the Sharkskin as it tried to bite into him from the back. "Heh, nice try. It'll take more than that to bring me down!" The boast was completely pointless and unnecessary, but both shinobi knew the reason it was spoken anyway. It was an informal way of saying. 'My turn now.'

Kisame popped up on the side, swinging wide and across, trying to catch Zabuza with an unorthodox attack pattern. While he did manage to block or avoid all the attacks, the demon couldn't really take the offensive due to the difficult assault. He cursed under his breath and began molding chakra internally. The moment Kisame's movements slowed down, he was on the attack, swinging the executioners blade, cutting up robes and the twister's watery walls. No matter how much water sprayed, none of it ever reached the shinobi's eyes.

"Will you stop dodging already!? RAAAH!" He swung down, shoving a massive amount of water down with his chakra, creating a vortex right underneath the twister. The monster of the mist only grinned at him, looking as confident as ever. He pushed the Samehada into the twister's wall, draining it of chakra and energy rapidly. Soon enough, they stood on the open but disturbed waters, glaring at each other from either side of the small vortex in between them.

"Oh, but we've only just started, Zabuza." Kisame spoke in a low voice, once again working through a set of hand signs. "Water Style: Great Colliding Wave!"

"Water Style: Great Colliding Wave!"

The two waves roared from either side of the metaphorical field, colliding just as their names implied. The surge of water shook the very sea itself, sending a colossal wave towards the unsteady ship a few miles off in the distance. As the drops cleared, the two bladesmen had only a moment's time to analyze the battlefield before coming into arm's reach of each other. Blade against blade, they struck at each other, every hit perfectly dodged or blocked. It wasn't long before they tried kicking or even headbutting their foe, still keeping the pace that would make lesser shinobi stare in awe. As Zabuza spun around to deliver a powerful side slash, Kisame brought his blade up, taking the blow and sliding a good twenty feet across the water's surface.

"Is that all you've got? Here I though you intended to kill the Mizukage..." Before he could continue his provocations, Kisame rolled to the side, losing the last chunk of his robe to the Kubikiribocho. Knowing that he had a spare, he ripped the tattered thing off, tossing it into the water. His pale blue skin glistened in the sun, body as perfectly honed as expected of a S-rank shinobi. He casually brushed some water off of himself before going in for another exchange with the demon.

Perhaps master Zabuza really could slay the child Mizukage. It's been a while since someone could push him this hard without any unfair advantages like kekkei genkai. He didn't particularly hate bloodline users, but he had to admit that sometimes their abilities made them harder to kill than necessary. If you are weak, you should simply die the moment you let your guard down. On the other hand, ever since their battle started, Zabuza had never once let down his guard, something Kisame applauded him on.

Fighting that man was really not that unlike fighting demons. Being an S-rank shinobi, Kisame had the occasional run in with demons and other lesser chakra entities. It wouldn't quite measure up to the beasts he would soon be hunting, but the general principal was the same: entities didn't like facing the Samehada, and Samehada loved eating entities.

"You know, you're not half bad with that sword of yours, master Zabuza." Quipped the shark-man as he landed a heavy strike at the man's elbow, finally getting some semblance of an advantage. He couldn't really capitalize on it though, as the demon immediately retaliated by driving a knee into the Akatsuki's chest. Before he could swing down with his unhurt arm and end the battle right quick, Kisame rolled backwards, getting back into stance.

Zabuza could only smirk, switching the sword back into his apparently injured arm. An intense sensation flooded the air, chakra forming into an image of a purple demon hovering just above the sworsman. It looked at Kisame hungrily, snarling and grinning with an evil look in its eyes. The Demon of the hidden Mist was through playing around.

"Ready for round two, Kisame?"

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><p>Haku was worried, seriously worried. The civilians and Itachi had long since cleared out, so that wasn't the issue; the issue was that Zabuza had allowed the chakra to shape into the demon. He only ever did that when the fight was serious. Just how dangerous are these Akatsuki?<p>

He had heard bits and pieces of their stories, and had even managed to figure out that Kakuzu the Undying was among their ranks, but that was about it. Their purpose, their funding, their members...all of it was a mystery. Mysteries were a very dangerous thing in the world of shinobi; words that Zabuza very quickly drilled into the bloodline bearer's head.

"I...I should help..." But he couldn't, not with his injuries. A foe like Kisame would tear him apart before he could use a single jutsu. He was no longer a weapon...now he had to find different ways of helping the man who gave meaning to his life. He didn't know where to start, but he knew that he could not allow himself to fall too far behind. If only there was a way he could fight once again...

Haku sighed, then leapt off of the boat, landing onto the somewhat calmed waters. He slowly began gathering chakra, intent on taking the first steps towards re-enabling himself to fight. As the last bearer of Hyoton, he needed to push his ability to its very limit, to reestablish himself as the shinobi Zabuza had always needed him to be.

Ice slowly began forming on the water beneath his feet, and Haku closed his eyes. He could feel the edgy and cool sensation of the Ice chakra flowing through his body. It was vastly different compared to the smooth feel of water, or even the sharp rushing of air; Ice chakra was a third state, created from the two others. As it was in nature, so was with chakra. Haku understood that, and hoped it would help him realize his desire sooner.

By the time they reached the hidden Mist, Haku would make sure he could help his most important person in the fight against the Yondaime Mizukage.

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><p>Kisame skidded back across the water, the force of Zabuza's blows having somehow quintupled. Chakra theory long since knew of different types of chakra, the most obvious classification being by elemental affinity. With what little more he picked up over the years, the shark-man also knew that every individual had a chakra <em>expression<em>, a style, jutsu or form that made it function optimally. That was part of the reason shinobi across the lands specialized in different fields. Some were simply more attuned to forms of genjutsu or ninjutsu than the body-enhancing forms of kenjutsu and taijutsu. Some took the idea even further, and specialized in a specific natural phenomenon, which created shinobi such as the second Mizukage, who was the embodiment of charisma and illusions, or the third Raikage, a man who gave new meaning to physical power. It appeared that Zabuza's almost demonic chakra was simply part of who he was, not a bloodline or jutsu, just simply giving in to your inner nature.

This was why Kisame couldn't stop himself from grinning. The thrill of battle simply never grew old to him; every fight was life and death, and every fight was a rush that kept him going in this world of falsehoods. Only in battle could a man show his very soul, and only in battle did men communicate without lies. The common saying of 'communicating through one's fists' was close to the truth, as far as Kisame was concerned.

"You've been holding all of that back this whole time?" Spoke the Akatsuki, eyes gleaming with excitement, "Then I guess it's only fair I stop messing around either!" With that, the Samehada started giving off a visible stream of chakra that seemed to be absorbed into Kisame himself. In the end, despite the weapon's limited sentience, it knew the difference between swordsman and sword. The man's chakra flared, the little fatigue his body had accumulated disappearing as if it was never there.

"Here I come!" He yelled as he rushed for the man with the purplish demon hovering over him.

Two blades clashed once more, strikes even more powerful and fast than before. Unless the observerhad a sharingan, they would have trouble keeping up, regardless of their skill as a shinobi. At some point in the battle, Zabuza torn off the bandages that normally covered his mouth, flashing a sharp grin that rivaled the one of his opponent. Every strike flowed seamlessly into the next one, the Kubikiribocho actively seeking an opening through which it could end the battle.

They clashed repeatedly, neither gaining the advantage no matter how skilled their moves were. Zabuza's pulling on the unnatural property of his chakra seemed to give him additional speed, as he wielded the massive Kubikiribocho as if it was a simple wooden training sword. Kisame was no slouch either, doing much of the same with his own greatsword, taking part in a battle of speed with weapons so clearly meant for power.

"Why? Why can't I get a hit on you, dammit!" Roared the demon as he tried once more to rid Kisame of his head with a deceptively fast sideways swing. All he cut was air, but he would follow up the failed strike by jumping into the air and flipping using the sword's weight. Having shifted his center of weight far enough up his arm, he brought the sword down, parting the water considerably with the blow. Kisame only whistled in response.

Taking his turn, the monster of the mist went in for a low slash, shoving a copious amount of chakra into his lower body in order to quickly turn around and continue the assault with no loss in momentum. Zabuza jumped over the low, parried the mid, and ducked under the high attack, trying to knock the wind out of Kisame with the handle of his blade, only to see that the attack did squat to his foe.

Failing a stab, Zabuza drove his blade into the water, using it as a pivot from which he could flip over and try and hit Kisame from above. The monster of the mist saw the move coming, though, so he placed his sword between himself and the incoming blade, blocking it with a loud scraping noise. Not waiting for his foe to recover, he leapt up, delivering a swift punch to the demon's chest, sending him stumbling back. With the advantage, Kisame began making hand signs, readying his signature jutsu.

"Water Style: Shark Bomb Jutsu! It's over!"

On cue, a slightly larger than average water shark leapt from the small stretch of water between the two men, crashing into Zabuza with more kinetic force than such a small construct should have. Even as they sunk into the water, the jutsu kept going, only living up to the 'bomb' aspect when it neared the end of its' short lifespan. The underwater explosion send Zabuza tumbling down to the seafloor, the air blasted from his lungs.

Kisame looked down in triumph, only to twitch and duck as his instincts screamed at him to move. Briefly losing his balance, the Akatsuki stumbled forward, casting a glance behind him and seeing a watery clone of Zabuza dispersing. He braced for whatever the demon had in store for him, only to realize that the man in question was nowhere to be found. He slowly got up to his feet, double checking for another nasty surprise.

"Heh, I guess the clone was meant to blindside me during your aerial assault. Guess you messed up the timing, master Zabuza." He spoke, signs of renewed exhaustion obvious.

Dozens of meters below the surface, Zabuza watched in irritation as he finally regained enough strength to dislodge himself from the seafloor. He quickly floated upwards, dragging himself out onto the surface of the water. He had one more trick, and then it would be the end of the match. He raised his head, locking eyes with the Akatsuki.

"You think this is over...just give me... a moment." He somehow spat out, his breath uncomfortably short.

Kisame shook his head, slinging his blade over the shoulder, letting the tip drag across the water's surface. He slowly started walking towards the exhausted Zabuza, knowing full well that he could have kept fighting for about as much as he did up until that point. "If you're not going to admit defeat, I guess I'll just have to draw blood and end it the official way." He grinned, already planning to tear up the better part of the man's arm with the Sharkskin.

However, not two steps after he started, he noticed the smug look on Zabuza's face, turning his head around on sheer instinct. Behind him, a fair distance away, stood another water clone, looking as if he was barely held together, but that wasn't important. It had already done what it intended to; the Kubikiribocho was flying towards Kisame like an oversized shuriken, covering vast amounts of space with each passing moment. There was no way he could dodge.

Instead, the shark-man spun in place, keeping his sword's flat facing the incoming weapon, and subsequently flooded the blade with chakra, forcing it to expand and swell, looking like an oversized, scaly club, rather than a sword. It did the job, however, as the Kubikiribocho got lodged between the scales, all of its' momentum dissipating immediately.

"A desperation move, hmm? It won't work on me, but against Yagura...who knows? If you had more chakra to work with, you could perhaps handle him." Offered the monster of the mist, slowly dislodging his opponent's blade from his own.

"Do kill the guy. That way you can come after me again and we take a shot at each other for real." He smirked, knowing full well that Zabuza killing the Mizukage would almost definitely restart the relentless assaults by ANBU and hunter ninja. However, he looked forward to it; things were dreary ever since those occasional bouts of excitement had stopped.

Zabuza got up with a grunt, taking back his sword and casting a look into the distant outline of their ship. He could fight on the level, but he couldn't fight long enough. More training was required, and it was only a matter of time until they reached the Land of Sea. As convenient as the little reunion between swordsmen was, it put him on edge. The implication of an organization made solely of S-Rank criminals was clear to him.

When the time came, he would have to find a way to strike against these 'Akatsuki', but for now, he only wanted to head back to the ship and pass out from exhaustion.

"I don't intend to die in the village. I will kill him, and I will kill you when the time comes." He growled, not bothering to conceal the obvious threat.

"I can hardly wait." Answer the other swordsman briskly, starting towards the faraway boat with a slow, walking pace.

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><p><strong>Alright, next chapter is the end of their little voyage.<strong>

**Forgive me if it takes a while, since I intend to work through 12000 words for each of the next three chapters, and will be uploading them with a single day's break between them. **

**After that, book 1 will be closing, and focus will shift on the pair of Akatsuki artists as they take on an intelligence gathering mission to the Land of Stone. (Expect explosions, Sasori's deadpan attempts at humor, some hot springs, shogi and destroying half a dozen ramen stands, among other things)**

**I hope you drop a review, as they're the only things telling me if I'm doing things right or wrong. (And they're addictive as all hell, so I need my fix) :D**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	11. Book 1 - Chapter 9

**First of all, thanks for the feedback! Between this and the previous chapter I got like... seven? Yes, seven reviews! That's actually very good.**

**Guest 1: Although I couldn't understand over half of what you meant to say, you were right about me being a dick in the start note. So I changed it. Thanks!**

**Guest 2: I'm glad you find my work entertaining! A lot of stories in this fandom gets really predictable really fast, so I set out to write something just a little bit different. I hope you'll keep finding my story worth your time!**

**Secondly, I'm sick, so I went ahead and broke two of my promises. First one being the 4000 words promise from the start, and the other being the 12000 word idiotic promise I gave last chapter. This one is a couple of words shy of 2.8k.**

**Anyways, here it is...**

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><p>"While I do know just what kind of people they are, I will miss them." Muttered Haku as the two mist assassins watched the Akatsuki duo pass through the port's north gate and disappear behind the walls. Their ship had only recently docked, passengers all too eager to boast of surviving a freakish storm that came out of the open sky.<p>

Zabuza looked down on his student, then back at the direction the two criminals disappeared in. "You can't get attached to everyone we run into, Haku. Sooner or later, we will have to kill again."

True, the last person he had killed was Gato, but the fact still remained that the luck that they've been surviving off of since the bridge would have to run out sooner or later. 'Training' against Kisame had only cemented that fact. In order to become strong enough to bring down the jinchuriki Mizukage, Zabuza needed to spill blood. Yet he had made a vow not to take anymore lives pursuing his ambition.

Damn Kakashi and his cheap way of forcing him into a promise that's nearly impossible to keep. Just reaching the hidden Mist without drawing blood would be nearly impossible... But if he could accomplish such a feat, surely bringing down Yagura wouldn't be too hard?

"Hmph." Grunted the bladesman as he picked up on a familiar feeling. "Hunter ANBU, haven't seen those in a while..."

Haku almost unnoticeably scanned the area around them, and true enough, he picked up on an individual looking at them from across the square they were currently standing in. There were, of course, more of them, but Haku couldn't exactly pinpoint where they were. All he could see were civilians rushing to and fro, trying to get their errands done as quickly as possible until the rain starts.

For a civilian, rain was nothing more than a simple inconvenience, a danger only if it persisted for days on end. For a shinobi, especially if either side wielded Water Style, it was a game changer. Having ambient water to work with without having to spent too much chakra to gather it was a very useful advantage to have, and it only got better when you had Ice Style to lean on as well. Whoever these ANBU are, they are either green enough to think they could bring down Zabuza Momochi in the rain, or they had a plan. Unfortunately, since they were ANBU, the latter was far more likely.

"We proceed as if we didn't notice them. They'll ambush us about 300 meters outside of the port, give or take. Aim to disable, not kill." Spoke the swordsman, slowly turning to the main street and taking off in a subdued pace.

Haku cocked an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of him. "Aim to disable, Zabuza-sama?"

The swordsman nodded his head, not bothering to turn around. "I gave my word to Kakashi, and I'm not going to break it. A shinobi who can only kill is no shinobi at all. Besides, these fools will be nothing after Kisame..." He spoke, his shoulders slumping down only a bit.

"If I can't do something as simple as keep my goddamn word, what business do I have trying to protect the village? The Mizukage is way more powerful than any foe I'll ever have to face, but I still have to try, and I have to do it without killing." He shrugged, taking notice of the three additional ANBU hiding on top of the rooftops.

"It's just another challenge to get through if I'm to realize my goal." He concluded as the two made their way through the port's eastern gate. A small wooden sign hung there, pointing the way towards Nadeshiko village, the ninja village of kunoichi. The place was chosen as the assassin's next stop, and it would be just short of a two-day trip. Odds are that they'd run into at least two different ANBU squads on the way, not counting the idiots who think they'll get the drop on them in a few minutes.

"I'll help any way I can." Said the boy, closing his eyes for a moment, silently thanking the fates for giving him and Zabuza a second chance. They could have fallen on the bridge, leaving their dreams and ambitions unachieved. They could have been nothing more than a passing story, a minor nuisance to a land too troubled to bother with them anymore. But here they were.

Nadeshiko would give him enough time... The battle between Zabuza and the Mizukage would be on a whole different level, but if Haku could hit one crucial shot... Only one man could handle a Biju alone, and that was the sannin Jiraya, and that's mostly due to his army of toad summons. If Zabuza were to attempt something like that, he would surely need help; help Haku was more than willing to provide.

Some time passed after their conversation, the distance from the port long overshooting what Zabuza had predicted. Still, both master and student were on their guard, just waiting for the moment when their would-be hunters realized that their prey was far more capable than they'd expect.

"The kidneys, the heart, the liver..." Zabuza began listing, amusement glistening in his eyes, "The spine, the clavical vein, the neck vein, the brain..." He trailed off, noticing that the ANBU counted exactly half a dozen, and were close enough for him to pick up on their chakra, no matter how suppressed it was.

"8 points that bring instant death. And I'm not allowed to go for any one of them... Well, I guess there's no helping it." He looked up into the treetop, locking eyes with a slightly surprised hunter ANBU.

"I know you're there!"

Haku backed away, getting into stance regardless. The ANBU dropped down, surrounding them. Their masks were plain white designs with the occasional red detail, the standard uniform for Kiri's hunter ANBU. International agreements were made that requested any capable shinobi on missions below A-Rank to drop their current mission and help out Kiri's hunter ninja should they request the help. Due to the unlikelihood of something like that ever happening, most of the other nations signed, save for Kumo.

The six shinobi descended quickly from their hiding spots, four of them already working though a series of hand signs. Zabuza drew his blade...

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><p>The two Akatsuki had picked up on the Kiri ANBU presence the moment they stepped off of the docks, but wisely kept the information to themselves. It wasn't like those ANBU even knew of the Akatsuki's existence. After a few relatively quiet hours of walking north with the goal of getting a boat to the Land of Lightning, Kisame had reached his fill of the silence, and naturally began trying to strike up conversation with his decidedly quiet partner.<p>

"So, Itachi, did you ever hear the story of master Zabuza's rebellion?" Offered the shark man, feeling somewhat better now that the silence has been broken.

"No." Replied the Uchiha, keeping short and simple as he usually did.

"Well, I'll tell you. Never know when details like that will save your life."

Itachi would roll his eyes, but figured that the gesture would be unnecessary and distracting, so he instead opted to just keep walking as if nothing had happened.

"Alright. I guess the story should start with the Third Mizukage," began the swordsman, "after legends like the First and Second, the Third was hard-pressed to keep the village functioning as good as it did in the time of his predecessors."

"Thing was, the first two Mizukage were born leaders. Charisma, power, skill... those men had it all. The Third was essentially the most capable ninja in line after the Second went and committed double suicide with the second Tsuchikage."

Itachi's response was a barely noticeable twitch of the brow. Kisame proceeded without skipping a beat. "Anyways, in order to keep the village in top shape, Sandaime starts cracking down on everyone who doesn't meet the village's standard. It was fairly harmless at first, the usual bureaucratic shit like upping the academy requirements and whatnot. The problem started when nothing changed after a couple of years."

He paused briefly, trying to remember the exact order of events. The tricky thing about the Mist's history was the fact that it was rewritten so many times, not even the Mizukage knew how to tell fact from fabrication. Of course, Kisame went with the version he personally thought fit best.

"Soon enough, the old man starts executing people who fail their missions. For a while, most of the clans were alright with it, since none of their shinobi had failed their missions. Of course, it wasn't long until the first clansman managed to fuck up," Kisame smiled for some reason, turning slightly towards Itachi, "thing is, the guy in question was next in line to become clan head for one of the clans. I don't remember their names, but corrosion style was their main selling point."

Itachi gave no indication that the direction Kisame's story was taking had surprised him, in fact, he gave no indication that he was listening at all.

"So there starts our very first civil war. Lots of people got melted, some people got frozen, some got boned...so to speak." He finished, giving a very intentional grin.

Yet again, the Uchiha gave no response. He had long since learned to deal with his partner's _enthusiasm_, and would often simply stay quiet until the swordsman exhausted every possible topic he could come up with. Once that point was reached, he'd spare a single sentence to express his opinion on his partner's story.

While Kisame knew very well Itachi did it on purpose, he didn't really mind. To him, this was the good life, and the man who massacred his own clan was as good company as any other S-Ranked criminal. Besides, it was fun trying to discern emotions from the young man's face.

"Anyway, old man Mizukage survives the first war, then puts the entire clan to death. Lo and behold, not a day after that's done, there's another war. The pattern kept repeating for a while, the infamous graduation exam becoming standard somewhere along the line."

"After a while, the third war starts. The old man gets a kunai in the gut one night, leaving the spot to be filled by the council while Yagura cleans up on the battlefields. With no one better to stick in the chair, the council unanimously decides to give the boy the hat, even if he's barely sixteen at the time."

At that point, Kisame's eyes took a faraway look, something not all that common for the man. The only time he'd look like that was when he was recalling some of his more _interesting_ missions. He stayed like that for a few moments before snapping back to attention.

"All the while the swordsmen and their apprentices were going to and fro, killing people. Come wartime, they'd always unanimously support the Mikzukage. Half the reason the Sandaime lasted that long was because all seven swordsmen were fiercely loyal to him..." He trailed off, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to further recall his village's history.

"Ah! Of course, they didn't expect the kid to get the three-tails sealed into him four months after taking the hat. Until that point, they could have easily removed him if he became a problem. After...well, the sanbi gives its' jinchuriki longevity and a resistance to physical harm. Thus started another civil war."

"For some reason, the Kaguya clan decided to stage an all-out attack on the village. Each and every one of the idiots got killed that night."

"Why?" Itachi couldn't help but ask.

"Dunno. Some nonsense about honor. Guess they thought it was a good reason to kill off their bloodline..." He paused, realizing that he's once again lost track of his story.

"Kaguya clan...oh right. That war changed the Yondaime. Those four months in office, the kid was getting ready to bring some serious reforms to the village. But as soon as that war was over, he completely changed his mind, instead enforcing the ideals of his predecessor."

The two men casually stepped off the road, continuing their journey over the surface of a lake. They were in a slightly behind schedule, so moving from point A to point B was the quickest way of making up for that time.

"By that time, people were really starting to get fed up with the regime. Most of the swordsmen were still loyal, but three of them kept taking long-term missions in order to stay away from the village. Zabuza and Mangetsu in particular come to mind. Anyway, after a while, the Demon of the Mist decides that enough's enough, and tries killing the Mizukage in a coup d'état. It doesn't turn out well."

"He runs from the village, picking up the Yuki kid somewhere along the way. Not long after, Raiga follows suit, up and disappearing one day. Dozens of ANBU get sent to their deaths chasing after both, until the kid Mizukage finally realized he wouldn't be getting those swords back if he didn't go get them himself. Don't know why he didn't bother trying..."

Kisame looked around, giving off a loud yawn. They've been walking for a while now, and the opposing shore didn't seem to get any closer.

"Sometime after that, Fuguki fucks up. I stab him, take Samehada, and move onto one of the islands. Yagura sends a couple of unfortunate jonin to me, I send a couple of corpses back. The works. We kept at it for a couple of weeks until leader-sama showed up and gave me the offer of joining Akatsuki."

"And the rest, as they say, is history." Finished the Uchiha.

"Heh, I wanted to say that." Replied the swordsman.

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><p>Zabuza stood, breathing heavily. Around his feet were the bodies of the hunter-nin that intended to ambush him. Knocking them out rather than killing them made the whole thing take a bit longer, but at least he could send a message this way - he's coming back. After tying the group around a tree in the middle of east bumblefuck forest, Zabuza left his carefully written note with one of the ninja, a man wearing a mask with a diagonal red pattern.<p>

After taking a minute to recuperate, the two assassins were back on the road, Haku feeling surprisingly good. He had managed to keep his distance, flash freezing random limbs and being a general nuisance. The moment one of the hunters would shift his attention to him was the moment Zabuza got an opening to knock said hunter out. He didn't miss a single opening.

"I am glad you decided to spare their lives, Zabuza." Offered the boy, the strange feeling of content somewhat foreign to him.

"I'm just keeping my word... And like I said, these guys were pushovers." Replied the swordsman.

"Still, if you were to continue going on like this, surely it will help once we finally reach the Land of Water."

Zabuza said nothing, just looking into the distance with a tired look on his face. While that was the truth, it was also way more taxing trying to subdue rather than kill. If he did intend to kill Yagura and take the name of Mizukage, would behaving like this become second nature to him? Would the stories about the Demon of the hidden Mist slowly give way to a tale of a savior? Or would it all end along with his life, having failed to defeat the boy?

He was not made to be Mizukage, of that much Zabuza was sure. Yet he knew that, to save his village, he would need to put on the hat, if only for a short time. He needed to find someone strong enough for the title of Kage, yet 'pure' enough to lead the village into a less bloody future. Zabuza silently regretted the fact he forgot to interrogate the hunters for information on the goings-on in the village. While the men could hold their tongues for a good while, he was trained to be a swordsman of the mist. Torture and interrogation was only one of the many skills he had had to master in order to earn his blade.

Zabuza let out a sigh, something the man very rarely did. The next month will be the hardest of his life, and that was keeping in mind that he was not only a swordsman of the mist, but a fugitive as well. Then again, if his dream was easy to achieve, it wouldn't be worth pursuing in the first place.

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><p><strong>As I've said, I'm kind of sick, so I had time to spend sitting in front of a computer screen watching movies and trying to plow through a minor case of writer's block. This chapter was the result.<strong>

**On the other hand, I didn't have writer's block for Book 2, the first chapter of which is done already. If I try and pace myself properly, I might get book 2 to have regular updates!**

**Oh, and finally, I don't know if I'll stay true to the 12k promise about the next chapter. I probably could do it, but it's just as likely that I'll settle for the standard length.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to drop a review or a PM, I still need OC teams for book 3 ;)**


	12. Book 1 - Chapter 10

**Damn, writing Zabuza has become difficult. I needed to make this a bit more light-hearted just so I could avoid massive writer's block.**

**Still, I did squeeze out the promised 4k words.**

**Also, the story's gotten quite a few follows and favs since the last chapter. That's awesome!**

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><p>"Here we are, Nadeshiko village, the village of Kunoichi." Announced the swordsman, mildly relieved that they're finally within sight range of the damn place. It took two full days of walking through thick forestry, but they've finally reached a clearing from which the village could be seen. It stood spread atop three massive hills sticking out from the near-endless greenery, solid walls of grey brick and stone surrounding the decidedly untraditional architecture. That place, or more accurately, the surrounding forest, would be Zabuza's next training area, the place where he would train to stay his blade and exercise mercy. It would go completely against everything he was taught as a ninja, even against his most lethal ability, but going against his word would be worse.<p>

"We are to walk into the village, or camp out in the forest?" Asked the boy. He didn't mind either of the options. Every moment he got when Zabuza was resting or was otherwise occupied, the boy had used to train furiously, driving his mastery over his ability back up to the level he had before his injury, and then kept pushing. No one could teach him the secrets of Hyoton anymore, all that could have long since died. That was part of the reason why Haku was so determined to directly help his mentor realize his ambitions, because the future of his bloodline was riding on that very endeavor.

"At this distance, it should take you three hours, to reach the village..." the demon trailed off, scanning the area for a distinguishable landmark. Having found one, he continued, "do you see that lake over there?"

"The one north of the smallest hill? I do."

"We meet two kilometers east of its' easternmost point. I hope I don't need to explain why."

"Of course not, Zabuza-sama." Haku knew very well that a landmark that big would naturally be a meeting place for the local populace. While somewhat inconvenient, meeting in the middle of the forest would be a much safer option, much more fitting for a shinobi.

"Very well then. We will meet there every two days on sunrise, starting today. Inside the village, your goal is to procure supplies and information. I don't care about the means you use to do so." Finished the swordsman.

"As you wish, sensei." Said the boy, accentuating with a small bow.

"Hmph." Zabuza grunted, not at all comfortable with Haku calling him a teacher. He was an assassin...

Actually, he wasn't much of an assassin anymore, was he? No...he was a shinobi. He would finish his mission, and the mission required him to avoid spilling blood at all costs. To complete said mission, he would even sacrifice the fearsome reputation of the Demon of the hidden Mist. Who knows, perhaps people would fear him even more, knowing that he could be back at any time to finish what he started.

The boy began walking back into the forest, intending to break through to the main road from which the two had kept their distance for quite a while. They had already gotten their stories straight, covering for a wide variety of potential scenarios. Given that one of those scenarios was Yagura himself visiting the village, odds were that they were as covered as they could get.

"I'll see you soon, then." He spoke, letting the words simply hang in the air as he put an ever greater distance between them. While he was uneasy about having to leave the swordsman's side, Haku knew very well that his worrying wouldn't help anything, so he did his best to suppress it.

Left alone, Zabuza went over his plan one more time. He would set up camp somewhere in the forest, then proceed to ambush a standard patrol and strike fear into them. This would of course rile up the village, sending droves of skilled shinobi tasked with either killing him, or driving him away. It was the next best thing to fighting the ANBU stationed in the Mist itself.

So he began wandering the forest, sticking to the ground rather than jumping around like a monkey...or a leaf shinobi. His mind was quickly occupied with all the possible combat scenarios. He knew how ANBU fought, as he himself was one for a while. He also knew how hunters operated, having been clashing against them for several years now. If push came to shove, which it certainly will, he was fairly certain he would be the one walking away.

As he walked, an idea occurred to him. Would it be possible to simply assassinate Yagura? Technically, it would make everything so much easier for him, not having to fight a tailed beast and all...but such a thing seemed hardly possible. During all these years, Yagura's guard would only grow stronger, more secure. Breaching it would require impeccable intel and a massive amount of luck.

No, trying to win through subtlety and subterfuge never was his style. Going in, sword at the ready, tailed-beast be damned. His odds were shit to begin with, what's adding another miracle to an endeavor that already needs so many? Killing someone like Yagura was simply impossible for him, and the harsh reality of that fact was slowly creeping up on him.

Even if he somehow managed to reach the Mist without alerting anyone, what then? He has no supporters, no way of contacting anyone who might be opposed to the Yondaime's regime. All he has is the sword on his back and the faith of a boy...

Zabuza smiled. Not out of hopelessness, not out of realization that his situation is as bleak as it seems... He smiled because whether or not he dies in his attempt to reach his goal is irrelevant. He would either win, earning that thrice-damned hat, or he would die. There was no in-between, no second chance. And he was okay with that.

Finding a small clearing somewhere in the massive forest, Zabuza marked the location, setting up camp. It seemed clear, no signs of recent movement to be found. It was a perfect staging ground for the assault he had planned. It was remote enough for people not to accidentally stumble upon it, and close enough that he could quickly retreat to it the moment he lost his eventual pursuers. It was a den fit for a predator.

Of all the five standard elements, earth and fire styles seem to be the most common. Virtually any shinobi that can memorize a few hand-signs can most likely use low-rank jutsu of that element. Basic projectile attacks and physical barriers were the easiest to form, due to the shape transformation being so basic. However, given enough practice, one could very easily expand on their skill with any element. Earth style in particular was popular with shinobi of all ranks, due to how convenient it was for forming shelter almost anywhere. With a few quick handsigns, a ninja would have a hole large and ventilated enough to sleep in, hidden enough to be completely hidden with only a few twigs and leaves, and it would come at a nearly laughable chakra cost.

So, after picking an appropriate spot, Zabuza brought his hands together, creating a one-person earth-style shelter. It was barely better than sleeping on the ground, but it served its' purpose. Feeling the call of nature, the swordsman picked himself up, heading into the forest a bit.

Digging a small hole with the tip of the kubikiribocho, Zabuza went about his business, making sure to properly bury it in order to hide his scent. It was a common mistake many rookie shinobi made, leading to many dying on their first serious mission, simply because no one bothered to tell them that they should cover their tracks that thoroughly.

Finishing his business, the demon of the mist turned around, only to face a trio of Nadeshiko kunoichi. Chunin, judging by the vests, with weapons at the ready.

"Well, fuck."

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><p>Haku got into the village surprisingly easily. Apparently, claiming that you are a travelling monk will get you through most gates... so long as the guard isn't a shinobi who knows better. Having changed back into his 'civilian' attire, the boy slowly wandered about the village, marking any ninja building he could recognize. While usually well-hidden, armories, lounges and communication stations are much more obvious when you know the signs of one. Lounges are the restaurants or gambling dens with a guard near them, communications are almost always in a multi-storied building, and armories are the buildings with disproportionally large doors, to accommodate for anything that might be brought in or out.<p>

After thoroughly scouring every part of the village he could in a civilian guise, the boy went about gathering information. The thing he most often heard about was the daimyo's upcoming visit. Apparently, the man made annual visits to the village, each time hosting a grand event where both civilians and shinobi can share a night of music, dance and quality food. Some guy even mentioned that the largest amount of newborns is around nine months after said event, earning a smile from Haku.

He even went so far to actually visit the temple in the village, meditating in a garden devoted to an enlightened one, a Buddha. Due to the nature of the shinobi world, there was no one major religion. People gave tribute to the gods, the kami, but otherwise didn't have much in the way of spiritual life. This was somewhat circumvented with the monk's teachings, temples to the enlightened one raised in almost every village, regardless of size. Of course, there were other religious currents, bordering on life philosophies, such as Konoha's 'Will of Fire', or Iwa's 'Will of Stone'.

Sitting in the garden, Haku cast away thoughts of training, of jutsu, of shinobi in general. He even allowed himself to move Zabuza to the background as he focused on clearing his mind. What he sought was guidance, a subtle nudge towards the choice that would lead him and his teacher to inner peace. As wanderers, they will never be able to know it. He needed to find a way...

Slowly rising up, Haku gave the shrine one last look before finally walking away. Once again slowly making his way through the village streets, Haku caught glimpse of what looked like a training ground. He steered himself towards it, only to be forcefully shoved forward, straight into a kunoichi of the village.

The force of the push, coupled with the weakness the lightning blade had left as an eternal reminder of his time in the Land of Waves, floored the boy after he had collided with the girl. He found himself on his back, starting into the sky. It was noticeably gloomier than it had been in the morning; It looked ready to rain at the first provocation.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The girl had long dark hair and piercing green eyes. She looked to be about the same age as Haku. The flower symbol of Nadeshiko was etched into her headband, slightly concealed by her long bangs.

Haku nodded his head, quickly pulling himself up into a sitting position. "You must forgive me, I am very weak..."

Only when he turned his head did he realize that the girl was flanked from both side by incredibly menacing women, both easily as tall as Zabuza, and almost as wide. Taking in the strange sight in silence, Haku made a motion to apologize, only to get cut off before he even began.

"Weak he says! That's no excuse for interrupting a kunoichi's training! Detain him."

The two women had barely begun to move when Haku started working though hand signs. In a flash, both bodyguards were immobilized, buried up to their necks in cylindrical ice prisons. Speechless, the two women stared at each other and the boy in numb shock, neither finding appropriate words to react.

Taking his chance, Haku bolted back into the main street, intent on losing pursuers before they even began chasing after him. He maneuvered through the crowds, moving far more dexterously than any civilian would, earning him the occasional strange look. He didn't have time to notice them, though, he was too busy trying not to fail his mission not two hours after he had received it.

After a while, he settled down near the town gate, taking a moment to catch his breath. Despite his willingness to go on, his body simply refused to comply, demanding rest. He sighed, realizing that mistakes like the one he just made were simply something he could no longer afford. If he means to fight alongside Zabuza against the Mizukage, he'd need to step up, and quickly.

"Aha! Found you!" It was the girl again, this time without her bodyguards.

Haku made a motion to escape once more, freezing in place as a kunai lodged itself into the wood where his heart would be if he had moved a bit faster. With another sigh, he turned to face his would-be captor, saying nothing.

"That jutsu you used. It was the Hyoton bloodline, wasn't it?" The girl asked, determination still apparent in her eyes. She was completely unaware just how capable a shinobi he was, even with his now limited body.

"How do you know of it?" He answered with a question, keeping a watchful eye in case the bodyguards or other shinobi turn up. By the sound of things, they'll reach them in a matter of minutes.

The girl seemed to realize that as well, taking Haku by the arm, pulling him into the store in front of which he stopped to rest.

"Lady Shizuka? W-Welcome to my store..." The confused shop owner began, completely astounded that the village leader's daughter would barge into his store so suddenly.

"Silence. I am not here to browse your wares, salesman." She answered coldly, not even sparing a glance at the man.

"Now speak, boy. Who are you, why do you have the Hyoton bloodline, and what are you doing in my village?"

Haku looked up at the kunoichi, giving a barely noticeable smile. They had an angle for this exact situation. It was a long shot, sure, but it paid off.

"Well, it's a long story. Could we perhaps move to somewhere more private?"

"No, I think this place is just fine."

The store owner made a motion as if to protest, but quickly shrunk down when the girl blasted him with a dose of killer intent someone her age shouldn't be able to exert. Whoever she is, she wasn't just another kunoichi in a village full of them...

"Alright then, where to begin? My name is Haku Yuki, and I am a refugee from the Land of Water. I have travelled the lands, trying to find a place for myself in this world. I arrived to your village this morning. I have basic shinobi training, and am a capable user of my bloodline ability."

He omitted the fact that he had much more than basic training, the fact that he was wounded, as well as the fact that he had spent the better part of his childhood following and learning from the man known as 'The Demon of the hidden Mist'.

The girl, Shizuka, nodded as she processed the information, slowly coming to a conclusion. "Alright then. Someone like you would be an asset for this village, if only for your powerful and near-extinct bloodline. I will take you to mother, and she will sort out what we're supposed to do with you." She was supposed to lead this village one day, so making decisions like this one was supposed to come naturally to her...

Steeling herself, Shizuka threw on her intimidating face once more, leading the Yuki boy to the palace. Her bodyguards caught up to them somewhere along the way, but she ordered them to stand down.

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><p>Zabuza stood above the unconscious bodies of the two kunoichi that managed to get the drop on him. They must have been skilled for him not to notice them, but then again, ambushing him as he was taking a leak was low, even for ninjas. He was pretty sure there was an international treaty dealing with that sort of crap somewhere out there. Seriously, the situation was ridiculous. And to make matters worse, the last one threw down a trio of smoke bombs, slipping away before he could recover.<p>

That meant his camp was probably left abandoned. Haku would also catch word of the fact that he messed up sooner or later. The whole mess was just another stroke of bad luck in a life full of them. Still, there was nothing else he could do now but brace for the incoming assaults. At least he'd get to bash some heads together, that would probably help his mood. No matter how you looked at it, he became a shinobi for a reason, and that reason was that he simply enjoyed battle.

With a shrug, Zabuza tied the two kunoichi up, then began dashing through the forest, intent on stopping at the first relatively defensible position he comes across. His mission here was simply to terrorize the village for a while. They'll probably figure that his skills grew dull from being on the run so long, and send a bunch of weaker ninja in the hopes that numbers would help. They wouldn't.

Still, he wasn't the same man he was before. He still wasn't sure exactly how he felt about it, but he was bound by his word now, which, while limiting, would ultimately make this training that much more effective. It would be a fun week if he's to fight off wave after wave of Nadeshiko kunoichi. As far as he remembered, they had a penchant for throwing weapons, as well as an unusually high number of wind-style users. And he didn't mind that one bit.

Eventually he had reached what looked to be a source of water, flowing freely from the rocks, forming one of the many streams he had to jump during his time in this forest. It looked good enough, and if he was clever about it, he could set up a new camp nearby without risking getting exposed again. Fighting off dozens of ninja during the day, taking a page from Kisame's book and using a massive water jutsu to get rid of any stragglers, then back away and retreat to camp for the night, collecting whatever wildlife got caught in the traps he'd lay down. So long as he didn't mess up and get wounded or caught, he should be fine.

Remembering where the source is, he picked a random direction, setting up camp exactly a mile from it. Along the way, he left markings, dots and scratches that most shinobi would think was the work of an animal, but was in actuality the code the seven swordsmen used. One of the things the seven swordsmen unit did correctly was cryptography. Unless a member intentionally revealed the contents, their intelligence was nigh-untraceable. Of course, that didn't stop Fuguki from getting greedy and trying to sell the data anyway, getting himself killed in the process. But Zabuza didn't know that.

With a sigh, the swordsman took off his arm and leg warmers, throwing them away. He no longer needed them, and when fighting several opponents, they would do more harm than good, even if they were convenient for stashing kunai or senbon.

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><p>"His story is solid, my lady. The boy really is a Yuki with mastery of the Hyoton."<p>

Haku wanted to sigh, but kept himself in check. All these people were so desperate for the power in his blood that they were willing to keep themselves wide open, not even binding his arms. Sure, he didn't show any sign of aggression, but why did no one even consider the possibility that he is a spy? Was the situation in the Mist really that bad, bad enough that this village would so gladly accept any purge survivor, gladly turning a blind eye to normal protocol?

At least it made his job easier. With access to the leadership, as limited as it currently was, Haku would easily be able to gather solid intel. And besides, if they were this careless, it was fairly unlikely that Zabuza would have too much trouble staying hidden.

"My lady! I bring news!" Came in an exhausted looking ninja. Strangely enough, he didn't even wear a chunin vest.

The woman sitting behind the leader's desk only glared at him, displeasure at the interruption fairly obvious. "Yes? What is it now?"

"The demon of the hidden Mist, Zabuza Momochi was spotted near the village. A team of our kunoichi engaged him, and only one managed to get away, she's delivering her report as we speak. Teams were sent out to determine the status of the other two." The man quickly listed, doing a good job keeping his cool under many unfriendly gazes.

Haku blinked in surprise. Zabuza was already discovered? What had happened to lead him to make the decision to reveal his presence this early? What did he have to gain with a longer exposure time? Perhaps the panic would get the village's leadership to try and streamline the integration of the newly arrived bloodline user now that there was a threat looming? What would that mean for the daimyo's upcoming visit?

"Very well, you are dismissed. Double the patrols and send word to the daimyo that he should not cancel the visit. We will not appear weak, and we will hunt down this demon. As for you boy, you are Shizuka's responsibility."

The girl, who stood just a ways' off from Haku, nodded her head. "I understand, mother."

With that, both teens were escorted out of the leader's office, and out into the palace yard.

"Alright then, Haku Yuki. I'll show you to my chambers."

"Why?"

"Well, you're my responsibility. What better way to keep an eye on you than to keep you close at all times?"

"For all my travels, I have never run into a village this hospitable. To be invited into the princess's own home..."

"Yes, you are quite the lucky one, Haku Yuki."

"Please, just call me Haku, Shizuka-sama."

"Then you just call me Shizuka."

"So I will."

They made their way through the palace yards. The architecture of the Land of Sea wasn't that different from the style of the Land of Water. Large, cylindrical buildings, made to endure both sieges and unpredictable weather patterns. While he wasn't quite sure, Haku figured that it had something to do with the fact that the Land of Water was significantly larger at the time it was formed, probably encompassing the current Land of Sea.

However, unlike the heavy and often extreme weather of the Mist, Nadeshiko currently only had a thin layer of grey clouds in the sky. The two made their way through the last garden, approaching one of the many towers of the palace complex. Shizuka unlocked the door, leading them up the tower, showing that quite a few floors were specialized training fields for shurikenjutsu, sparring, bukinjutsu of all sorts...

"And this is where we will sleep."

Haku looked around the room. Sure, it was a girl's room, as evidenced by the occasional esthetic detail. It was also a shinobi's room, judging by the general emptiness of the room itself. However, the thing that caught his eye above all, and the thing that truly concerned him, was the fact that there was only a single bed. It was a queen-sized bed, with dark red covers that ended in flowing frills.

"I see only one bed. Am I supposed to sleep on the ground? Not that I'd have a problem..." however, before he could try and worm his way out of the very, very unusual situation, Haku was cut off.

"Nonsense, you are going to sleep right next to me. That way, I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't do anything suspicious." The girl declared, still wearing a straight face.

Haku slowly shook his head... at least Zabuza didn't have to deal with this craziness.

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><p>Zabuza ducked another swipe by a kunoichi that wielded a sword as large as the kubikiribocho. Another one swung what looked like a morning star at him. He cursed under his breath, wishing that he could switch places with Haku. He <em>hated<em> fighting kunoichi, especially now when he couldn't kill.

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><p><strong>There it is... Damn, this is getting harder the closer I get to their arrival to the Hidden Mist...<strong>

**On the other hand, I have two chapters of Book 2 done, as well as the first chapter of Book 3. :)**

**And please, please, I really would appreciate OC's. Just shoot me a PM or review.**

**That's all. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Do leave a review, it's a writer's drug!**


	13. Book 1 - Chapter 11

**Still getting lots of follows and the like. That's very satisfying.**

**JigokuShoujosRevenge: Komaru looks interesting, I'll probably use him as a side character if I can come up with an interesting fighting style.**

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><p>It took a while, but he had managed to give them the slip. For all his years as a ninja, Zabuza Momochi never once ran into a more bizarre collection of weapons. Everything from a flail to a chakra blade was used to try and kill him in one way or the other, the only reason he survived being the fact that he essentially grew up with his own blade, having the edge of experience. When you're assaulted by a thin, barely of age kunoichi who likes swinging a giant warhammer around, you find it fairly difficult to contain your distaste for the situation. In fact, killing someone becomes a very, very tempting action.<p>

At least he got away. If there was any doubt that Haku would hear of his mistake, it was completely gone now. The demon of the Mist made a genin mistake, getting heat on him far earlier than planned. Still, while the units sent after him were more a show of quantity than quality, he did get a good workout in. Perhaps, if the village of kunoichi actually took him seriously, he'd get something worthwhile from this whole cluster-fuck.

Tired, the swordsman crawled into his earth-style shelter, throwing up a healthy amount of cover to hide his presence there. He'd surrounded the camp with an unhealthy amount of traps, meant for both animals and people. If something came within 50 meters of his encampment, it wouldn't go anywhere else, he made sure of that.

Slowly, the fatigue got to the man, sending him into a fragile sleep. As a shinobi, especially one acting alone, you sacrificed a good night's rest for safety. No matter how much you'd appreciate a good nap, you simply couldn't afford something like that. Better tired than dead, or so they say.

He dreamt. They weren't meaningful dreams, meant to reveal something he's been missing, or even the simply chaotic ones that the human mind sometimes used to cover up the fact that it was swamped with information. No, Zabuza's dreams were simply memories. And most of the time, they were memories of a time he thought was better left forgotten.

Back in the day, when the Yondaime Mizukage only gained power, the seven swordsmen were often used as war deterrent. The mere presence of these shinobi would be enough to dissuade potential uprisings, or in the case that the uprising has already begun, to squash them. One particular mission had all seven of them gathered, travelling to the island where the whole thing started by way of barge.

"You're a goddamn cheat, Mangetsu!" Roared the short, yet bulky man known as Jinin Akebino. He was known as the most dull of the seven sworsmen, even though he was the wielder of the deceptively effective Kabutowari, the helmet splitter.

Around him sat four other members: Jinpachi and Kushimaru, two men who had become infamous as the 'heartless pair', as well as Fuguki, the colossus that used the Samehada. On the other side of the table sat Mangetsu Hozuki, who acted as the dealer this round.

"Oh, come now. It's not my fault you don't know how to play. Take a page out of Jinpachi's book. He seems to be doing well."

The short man rolled his eyes, shooting both men a look of disgust. "It's because you're in this together. Everyone knows that Jinpachi is the greediest son of a bitch ever to come out of Kirigakure."

The man in question, one eye hidden under his eyepatch, only cocked an eyebrow. "Careful Jinin, I might take offense to those ungrounded accusations."

"Like I give a fuck!"

Meanwhile, a ways' off, Zabuza Momochi was leaning on the fence, staring into the distance. He never was one for card games, losing his temper all too quickly. Next to him stood Ameyuri Ringo, the sole kunoichi of the sworsmen, and perhaps the most dangerous woman in the hidden Mist village.

"Aww, come on Zabuza-kun... I'm feeling so terribly lonely..." Some men came to call her the black widow, partly due to her reputation as a seductress, partly due to the fact that she used the 'fangs'. Of course, no one in their right mind would call her that directly.

"Get lost." Grunted the man that was known as a demon.

The kunoichi gave him a hurt look, then turned around and walked away. "Alright Zabuza-kun... I guess I'll just have to find someone else to play with..."

At the time, he had only a vague desire to change something about the village. He didn't know that the mission he was assigned to along with his fellow swordsmen was the one that would define his life as a ninja. So much blood was spilled that day... too much.

And Yagura... goddamn Yagura wouldn't listen, wouldn't change. He only listened to that masked freak he called an advisor, and simply kept turning a blind eye to the fact that this way of life would one day surely break the village. The bloodline purges were bad enough, what would happen if any of the other great nations actually decided to mobilize against the Water? Sure, they would hold them off for a while, but soon enough, someone would bring Yagura and the fleet down, and the Mist would be left sitting wide open, bleeding from years of internal strife.

They would all die. The place Zabuza had known as his home would be razed to the ground, occupied by foreign forces that saw it as nothing more than a convenient strategic point. They would know nothing of its' history, of the blood that had shaped it into what it was... of the sacrifices that were made to enforce the peace. Nothing would matter anymore, all of it would be gone, washed away in one last wave of blood and death.

The mission to the island of grey sand was the last one he would take as a member of the seven swordsmen of the Mist. Afterwards, Zabuza would slowly gather supporters, taking meaningless missions such as border and island patrol in order to stay close enough to the village. Over time, he'd amass a respectable fighting force, picking a fight near the Mizukage's palace. He would make a mistake that day, and he would pay for it later with years of exile.

But even then, even on that day on the barge, Zabuza knew that he needed to do something for his village. Something to give meaning to all this fighting. A fight was what he lived for, but not when it didn't have purpose, when the only reason was hatred. A fight out of hatred was barely a real fight...

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><p>"Would it not be...inappropriate?" By this point, Haku was ready to grasp at straws. The sheer absurdity of the situation was getting to him. Was the girl that strange due to the fact that the village was so matriarchal? Did the way she was brought up simply prevent her from realizing how strange her claim that they would share a bed was?<p>

"I see no problem. You are my responsibility, after all." The girl said, taking a seat on the bed, slowly taking off her armor and letting her hair down. She had noticeably long hair for a kunoichi...unless she had a way to use that to her advantage. Haku knew of some jutsu that would allow the user to harden and manipulate their own hair as a weapon; in fact, one of Zabuza's former comrades, a swordsman of the mist, used such a technique.

"Could it be..." Haku murmured to himself, coming to the realization that perhaps the whole village had mistaken him for a girl once more. While his androgynous appearance was convenient for infiltration missions like this one, it often created fairly uncomfortable situations.

"You do realize that I am a boy?" He asked, hoping that his guess was correct.

"Of course I do. Most Yuki do look pretty feminine, though. That's what my teacher said anyway. Besides, the interrogation guys mentioned that you are indeed a boy."

Haku sighed. Acting as a shinobi had brought him some truly fascinating experiences, this one pretty much taking the cake. Fighting off hunter-nin was a breeze in comparison to dealing with village nobility...

"Very well. Since it does not bother you, I have no right to protest. I am your guest after all."

The girl had finished taking her armor off, leaving only a bodysuit and standard ninja slacks. Apparently, she was an early bloomer.

"Alright then, let's go do some training. I'm dying to see what that Ice Style can do." She started, standing up and beginning to drag him out of the room and down the stairs, towards one of the many training floors her tower had.

Haku stayed silent, realizing that the best way to complete his data-gathering mission was to play along with the Nadeshiko princess's demands. And besides, he needed to get his training done anyway, why not use it to fortify his cover?

They made their way down the hardwood stairs, descending a couple of stories until a noticeably spacious sparring hall came into view. Exchanging nods, the two teens took positions on opposite ends of the field, slipping into stance. Haku tied back his hair, raising one hand, readying it for eventual hand signs.

"A word of advice, you'll want to dodge."

"While I appreciate the tip, I'm afraid I can't use it."

"Huh?" But before she could continue the conversation, the boy's hands flipped through a series of hand signs, sending water from the sparing hall's pool rushing at her, formed into dozens of what appeared to be sharp needles. Shizuka could only barely catch the words coming out of the Yuki's mouth.

"...of death."

She leapt back, working her own signs, readying the kunai sealed away in her gloves. With a spin, she pumped wind chakra into the weapons, sending them flying at the boy at high speeds and irregular patterns. If he's not going to move, she'll just make him move.

However, before any of the weapons could cross half the field, the boy had already pressed his hands to the ground. "Ice Style: Ice Wall Jutsu."

As expected, a respectable wall of ice materialized from the ground, taking the knives. Most managed to cut in halfway, but not one was even close to actually endangering the boy. He smirked, pushing more water to the girl's side of the field. He'd follow it up with a barrage of senbon, but due to the chain of events that led to this spar, this was obviously not an option.

Shizuka gave a grunt, dodging the water the boy was sending at her. Her situation wasn't too promising, mostly due to two reasons: First off, he's obviously a ranged fighter, meaning that staying at this distance would not only exhaust her more than necessary, but also keep her from trying to bring him down with her hardliner assault. Secondly, she couldn't really get in close; the boy had already proved that he only needs a moment opening to flash-freeze a close-range attacker.

Unless she came up with something quickly, this battle wasn't going in her favor. That much was apparent.

"If I understand correctly, law of Nadeshiko village states that a kunoichi must marry the one who defeats her in battle. Since I am not interested in pursuing marriage just yet, should I surrender?" Although he didn't mean for it to sound like one, his question came out as a taunt. Naturally, this annoyed the kunoichi greatly.

"That's only when she leaves the village to seek a husband! And I'll show you why dozens of boys challenge me every day! Take this!" Another salvo of kunai left her gloves, meeting another wall. However, this time Shizuka used the barrage as cover to get in close, dodging the first reactionary attack, and letting the explosive tag kunai she threw redirect the other one. Channeling chakra into her fist, she readied her assault...

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><p><em>OST: Hinata vs Neji<em>

Yagura sat in his office, leaning against the big glass window. Fuinjutsu of old was used to make that glass into something nearly impervious to damage, so long as it stayed within the array. From that point, he could see most of the village, most of his people, most of the blood...

No, there wasn't any blood now. Now they had peace. All it took to keep that peace was a few clever lies. Lady Ameyuri didn't die to her comrade's blade, but to a sickness. Kisame didn't kill master Fuguki, for Kisame was still doing an undercover assignment abroad. Zabuza Momochi wasn't returning to the water...

Zabuza Momochi wasn't returning to the Water. It was a lie like all the others, but why did this one taste so differently? All lies taste the same, and his tongue had long since lost feeling for their taste. So why is this little lie so hard to swallow and keep down? It was meant to protect the people of the village, to shield them from the harshness of reality. The realities of the world were too dark...too gruesome. The villagers were better off not knowing the truth...

Yes, blissful ignorance. That was what they got, and they were happy with it. Why would this man come back after everyone had all but forgotten him? What business did he have with the Land of Water? Why would he come to disturb peace?

Yagura had worked so hard... He had gotten rid of the bloodlines, eliminating their preference for conflict. He had gotten rid of any unsavory characters with ideas of commerce and diplomacy. The Water was self-sufficient, made that way by the Sandaime, despite the times of war. The Sandaime only ever wanted what was best for the village. He made sure that only the top percentage of shinobi became Kiri shinobi...he spent his life making sure that the village would have peace.

So why? Why would the boy come back after all these years? Was he intending to return the sword, perhaps? The seversword is indeed a valued treasure of the village, and would surely raise morale if it was recovered... but something told him that that wasn't the reason. No, the Demon of the hidden Mist was coming home with only one purpose - revenge.

He walked over to the table, picking up the Mizukage hat and placing it on his head. It soothed him, reminded him of the village. Told him the reason why he was doing all of it. The reason for the blood, for the lies, for the abductions. It told him that everything was going to be alright.

Zabuza Momochi wasn't returning to the Water. A man with no past, no true purpose was coming in his place, wielding his sword and wearing his skin. This was no noble swordsman, no skilled shinobi. This was only a threat to the village's peace, its' stability. As all threats, he would be dealt with... and since he had handed him that sword personally, it was only fitting that he would be the one to take it back.

The Mizukage closed his eyes, withdrawing into his own mindscape, the one place where he could speak with his 'tenant'. It was a wide beach, with waves soothingly rolling against the coast. Off to the side was the giant sand pit in which the turtle sat. It had long since given up on trying to break out; the sand would only keep pouring down, keeping it trapped.

"Hey Isobu, what do you think I should do with him?" The Yondaime wondered aloud, sitting down next to the pit's edge.

The turtle gave no response, only docilely staring up with the one eye it usually kept open. The only sign that it was alive at all was the fact that the shell moved up and down in a steady rhythm. He waited for a response for a while, eventually just letting the subject drop by shaking his head.

"We used to talk. Why don't we talk anymore, Isobu?"

Still the turtle gave no response, this time lowering his eye, staring straight into the sand that had kept it prisoner for decades. It wished to speak, but its' words would fall on deaf ears. The boy was too far gone now... there was no saving him. They would both die serving a mask, a hat. He should have warned him, all those years ago. He did not.

So the three-tails sat in silence, not bothering to spare a glance at its' jinchuriki. Once upon a time, it had had respect for the man who bested him in straight up combat. Then a boy, Yagura had a mind to rival a tailed beast, using weak little jutsu in ways no one before him could ever hope to. What was a simple wave became a devouring tsunami in the boy's hands, a simple coral would be a weapon.

A hooked staff, made from materials attuned to water chakra... a simple tool, but strong...no, versatile enough to bring even him, the three-tailed turtle, down. It was something worthy of respect. He had no such respect for the Yondaime Mizukage anymore.

"Alright then. I'll come at another time." Spoke the boy-in-appearance, standing up and walking away. Soon enough, the darkness had completely covered him, and his presence slowly rose above the eternal beach. The three-tails was alone once again.

"We will die, Yagura... We will die, and it is far too late to try and stop that..."

The light in the Mizukage's office was switched off, signaling the village-wide curfew to begin.

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><p>... but the boy was fast. She was used to speed, but this was something completely different. He had not only managed to duck under her blow, he somehow found the time to use another jutsu, freezing her feet to the ground. She was left standing there, stuck between two ice walls, staring into the impassive face of the Yuki refugee. The boy was a few motions away from defeating her.<p>

"Shizuka, princess of Nadeshiko, do you give victory in this spar to me?" He asked, voice as cold and dull as the walls of ice around her. Just what did this boy go through to become something like this?

While she had her pride, she also knew when a situation was completely hopeless. Nodding her head, the girl admitted defeat. With a few quick signs, the boy released all the jutsu he had held, allowing the ice to crack and wear away, turning into water at an unnatural rate. He offered her a hand to help her up.

"T-Thank you..." She muttered, unsure of how to take the small bit of chivalry.

"You have potential, Shizuka. I have no doubt that you will become a worthy leader for your village one day, so long as you find your reason to be strong."

"My...reason?"

The boy nodded, giving her a harmless smile, "Everyone needs a reason to be strong. I, for example, train myself so hard in order to protect the life of those I care about."

She gave a weak nod, leading the boy absently towards the roof. She always liked going to the roof after a training session, and never really bothered on explaining the reason. It was simply...liberating.

A reason to become strong... Was it love? If she found a man to love, would that be her reason? The village held marriage in very high regard, a luxury of sorts, a privilege that only the worthy could enjoy. She could become such a person, couldn't she? She was the daughter of the village matriarch...

Inherited power rung hollow. If she really wanted to be strong, she needed to find and earn that strength on her own, though hard work and diligence. All her name could offer her was the first step on that road, nothing more.

It is because she had never been so soundly beaten before. Even when fighting older shinobi, expressly ordered not to hold back, she would at least get a hit in, if only due to her mastery of the Nadeshiko Style dances... Her inability to lay a hand on him was testament to the boy's skill. For the entire fight, he had only made a couple of steps, while she was jumping and dashing all over the field. Looking back, it must have looked ridiculous, a princess losing so soundly to a simple wanderer...

But the Hyoton was anything but simple, judging from this spar. Forming walls durable enough to stop chakra-enhanced kunai from thin air was an ability she didn't imagine possible. Nothing stopped her wind-loaded knives; they were meant to be dodged.

"I-I don't have a reason. Not yet." She said, her voice missing the tone of pride and status it had carried before. She had forgotten to put on her brave face once more.

The boy gave a shrug, staring at the now darkening sky. "I believe you will find one," he spoke, then left it at that.

No answer came from the princess. She was far too absorbed in her own thoughts.

Giving a silent sigh, Haku excused himself, returning to the training area below. The girl gave him a good warm-up, but he still had chakra to spare, so something more intense was in order. He slowly began working through his hand signs, feeling as the chakra within him changed and expressed itself in different ways with each sign.

This was the starting point. Only by mastering the purpose of each sign could the boy unravel the secrets of the Hyoton bloodline. Only through such diligent practice would he become strong enough to be of use to Zabuza once again.

"Alright... " He murmured, an array of signs coming into view in his mind. The snake sign, the dragon sign, and the dog sign. Those would be the three basic signs. After them came his own instinctive signs, leading up to one of his signature jutsu.

"Ice Style: Thousand Flying Ice Needles of Death."

The air became cold, and light shimmered off of the surface of ice.

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><p>They wouldn't admit it, but scientists would never really get anything done without the aid of people they consider inferior to themselves. Oh, they could talk of breakthroughs and revolutionary discoveries, but until his lab is sparkling clean, scrubbed down by the resident janitor, the scientists wouldn't get anything done.<p>

So when the resident janitor of Orochimaru's southeastern lab caught wind of the fact that the boss himself would be coming by, he made sure everything was ready, clean, and in working order. He even took a risk, cleaning the room of that pale looking Kaguya kid the boss seems to like. The boy wasn't amused, but found ignoring the janitor far easier than getting up and killing him. Not that he doubted that he could kill him, mind you; he has seen the boy impale people from across the hallway with those bones of his...

When the boss himself, Orochimaru of the sannin, came to visit, the simple janitor simply had to find out what was the reason of such a sudden visit. He planted himself outside of the laboratory that the snake and the Kaguya entered, and made sure to be as sneaky as possible. He didn't know of the fact that both men had sensed him the moment he leaned against the wall, and that the only reason he was still alive was because Orochimaru admired the man's curiosity.

"...and I simply had to see for myself if the formula would work. It was such an...elegant solution."

"As you wish, lord Orochimaru. Should I drink it in one go?" Asked the less creepy voice.

"By all means."

There was silence for a moment, then the sannin spoke once more.

"I've given instructions to some of the staff to produce the medicine at three day intervals. Should you take it regularly, I believe your body will be able to recover enough for me to once again explore the possibility of choosing you as my next vessel." The snake finished.

Kimimaro was such a loyal subject. Simply because he was at the right place at the right time, he had gained perhaps his most devoted follower. Not for a second did the sannin doubt the Kaguya's claims that his only wish is to serve...

But the little paper airplane was sent with the sole equation required to create the cure for Kimimaro's illness. Outside of that particular case, the information that came with the airplane was useless. Just what angle did the mysterious benefactors shoot for? Was it a message that he should perhaps keep Kimimaro alive, now that his failing body is no longer an issue?

Orochimaru thought long and hard, dismissing the Kaguya and telling him to kill the janitor anyway. While boldness and curiosity is to be respected, stupidity like staying for the entirety of their conversation is to be punished.

As a man in his later years screamed for his life, the sannin made a decision to postpone the assimilation of Kimimaro. Besides, there was a young Uchiha with magnificent Sharingan eyes that needed his attention. All he needed was the right opportunity.

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><p><strong>Ok, that's Nadeshiko 24 two more like this and the Mist Assassins move on.**

**I hope you didn't mind the OST insertion. It just goes so good with the scene.**

**Also, I'm open to suggestions. Anything you'd like to see in this story? Anything you wouldn't like to see? Maybe preferred pairings? Or some gimmicky new ability you think is perfect for (insert character)?**

_**Bear in mind that all suggestions will be thoroughly thought over by the author. Should he see that something the majority of the viewers wouldn't like to happen is a key part of the story, he will still write said part, but will be laughing evilly while doing so.**_

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Do leave a review; I found a convenient way of turning reviews into faster chapters!**


	14. Book 1 - Chapter 12

**More fighting. I wish I could turn to more dialogue-heavy chapters, but that's not really going to be an option with these two. They're living on the run, after all.**

**Dialogue will get its' turn, don't worry.**

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><p>Days passed in the village of Nadeshiko. The Yuki boy was accommodated and given his own room, as well as his own training quarters. Attempts to monitor him were fruitless due to the boy's exceptional stealth skill, and unknown to most, he still spent his nights sharing a bed with the village's own princess.<p>

Being so close to the leadership of a shinobi village, Haku had the opportunity to hear all about the current state of the land of water. All accounts point to the fact that the village is as quiet and strict as it ever was. While it wasn't the state he was hoping for, it was good info, so he'd at least have something to tell Zabuza when they meet up later in the day.

Haku broke away from his thoughts for only a short while, noticing yet another medic squad hauling injured kunoichi. They keep sending them in droves after the bladesman, and while they haven't yet lost a single one of them, no one can give any useful information on the demon's whereabouts and purpose. The only one who came close was the palace chief of security, a generally inconspicuous man by the name of Kei. He was the only one to walk away from the confrontation with the demon after they cornered him. Seemed like every time they'd get close, he'd just conjure up a full-size water dragon as if it didn't cost any chakra. And even after several days, he was still fighting as fresh as he did on day one.

Shaking his head, the boy went back to minding his own business, wondering about how he'll lose the two kunoichi assigned to watch him. He had grown weary of constantly losing them, so the next best thing was to lose them when it mattered. However, besides what little information he had on the water, Haku didn't really have much to return to the swordsman.

"Ah, there you are."

It was Shizuka, alone. Spending a few days with her, the Yuki quickly concluded that she is not the person she presents herself as. When feeling safe, she isn't nearly as aggressive or talkative as she usually is. She was getting better in their spars, too, since she'd usually manage to touch him once or twice. Of course, he'd usually freeze her gloves on contact, just for laughs.

"Something you wanted?" He asked, slightly raising his head.

The girl smirked. "Do you know how to dance, Haku?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dance. You know, the thing you can do when there's music?"

While dancing was commonly taught in ninja academies due to its' usefulness in high-profile infiltration and espionage missions, Haku had to be self-taught, due to Zabuza's statement that the Mist trained assassins rather than spies. Still, there was only so much he could pick up from a book.

"I know a few basic steps, but I lack any useful experience."

Giving a satisfied nod, the girl pulled him up, leading him back towards the palace. Haku blinked, realizing that he wouldn't have time for a dance lesson if he's to meet with Zabuza on time.

"...so we're going to dance, ok?" the girl finished.

Damn it. He was supposed to be paying attention. There's a time for thinking, and there's a time for listening. Unfortunately, the boy still had some trouble differentiating between the two.

"Uhm, alright. But before that happens, I need to go check up on something..." he trailed off, eyes scanning for the best escape point.

"Nonsense, you've had most of the afternoon to yourself already! The only reason you're so free to mess about is because of the Daimyo's visit, you know."

"I'm sorry, but I really must go," he spoke, stopping in his tracks, getting the girl to release him.

She gave him a long look, then crossed her arms. "Alright, go do whatever you want. But come the evening event, we're dancing. I have to look good in front of the elders!"

They would be dancing during the Daimyo's evening event? That was...he didn't actually know what to make of that. Zabuza would know, though, so he'll have a chance to ask him as soon as he loses those two that keep following him.

Turns out that losing them was easier than expected. Inexperienced kunoichi probably let their guard down when he stopped trying to lose them every few minutes. Tardiness gets shinobi killed; that was another thing Zabuza often said during their travels.

Making his way through the streets, he ducked into one of the shops, sneaking past the owner onto the roof, taking great care not to get seen. The sun was still up, but was nearing the horizon with every minute. Guard shifts change at sundown, but some do so even half an hour earlier. Fortunately, all the ones that have a chance of spotting him don't fall into that category, so he won't have to worry about additional people. Keeping his head low, the Yuki navigated the rooftops, quickly scaling his way up to the wall, then over and into the forest beyond.

Keeping away from the main roads, he quickly oriented himself toward the lake and pressed on.

It didn't take long for the rumors to start up about Zabuza's purpose in Nadeshiko. Most speculated that it had something to do with the Daimyo, perhaps an assassination attempt. Some were more imaginative and humorous, suggesting that he's come to find himself a wife, or that he intends to open up a weapons shop after testing the village's current gear. One guy, a gate guard, guessed that he's only stopping by to cause trouble before going back to the Water for round two with the Mizukage.

After a while, he reached the lake. Then he walked east.

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><p>Zabuza had recently finished kicking the last of the pursuing shinobi away from him, sending his or her head into a tree branch, knocking them out. As he stood now, he was a bit tired. Still, he was getting better every day. The ninja sent after him were by no means incapable, but aside from a single shinobi, most were too soft to actually threaten him. That isolated case warranted further study, but there would be time for that once he's done meeting with Haku.<p>

He leapt from branch to branch, eyes wary, but alert. Ever since he first got spotted, he made doubly sure to be the one who picks the engagements. In the lulls between engagements, he would either eat and sleep, or let his thoughts run wild, usually returning to that one mission...

"You ready, Zabuza?" Asked Mangetsu, fingers dancing atop the Hiramekamei's handle.

They were nearing the shore, and it was obvious that there was an ambush prepared for them. Whoever was leading the uprising was obviously not a very skilled shinobi...

"..." He didn't dignify such a question with an answer.

Someone laughed to the side. "Ha! You know he's always like this before a scrap, all quiet and serious. He probably thinks it makes him look cool." Jinpachi quipped, rolling the scroll embedded in his blade absently.

While the ambush itself wasn't too much trouble, the problem was who held the ambush. Teenagers, children barely of age to leave the academy, old men. This was no armed uprising, this was barely a civilian protest. Yet the seven swords were deployed, orders being 'kill on sight'.

They didn't think about it. They weren't people who could barely defend themselves, they were threats. Threats should be eliminated. So they were.

It didn't stop there. Neutralizing the ambush, the heartless duo got careless, getting themselves cut and scraped, minor injuries that wouldn't affect men like that in the least. But that sparked something in the two men, prompting them to raze the entire village to the ground. It wasn't a show of force anymore... it was simple extermination.

He still remembered himself standing in the middle of the village, blood, fire and agonized screams everywhere. He didn't feel that what they were doing was wrong. Even years afterwards, at the edges of Nadeshiko, he still doesn't. They were soldiers with orders, and duty outweighed honor. Still, there was no doubt in his mind that it was unnecessary.

In the end, the mission was no different than any other sword assignment. There was slaughter and death, and there was a lot of it. That was a job of a sword- to cut. It didn't matter what or how much they cut, they only did their jobs.

He sighed, letting the images of the past slowly slip away. He was nearly there, and knowing Haku, he was already there.

The boy thought he was stealthy with his training, hiding away or picking odd times to try and refine his skill. Zabuza had quickly picked up on it, but decided to say nothing. If the boy believed that he should ignore the medic's words and still try to serve as a shinobi, he wouldn't stop him. To his knowledge, he was the last of the Hyoton bloodline, so learning the art's secrets was ultimately a good call.

After a while, he noticed the markings on a couple of trees, guiding him towards an otherwise unidentifiable tree. The boy sat there, greeting his mentor with a friendly smile.

"Ah, there you are, Zabuza-sama. I thought you might have run into some trouble." He started politely.

The swordsman took his seat on a different branch shrugging. "Those punks don't count as trouble."

Haku's reaction was only a slight arching of the brow. "Either way, I do have things to report."

"By all means, Haku. I cleared my schedule for the evening." While no one could tell, the swordsman was smirking below his bandages.

So the boy started listing off the events that transpired since they parted ways outside of the village the swordsman was now terrorizing. He started off with the state of the water, detailing everything he overhead, separating confirmed fact from speculation and rumor. After that, he started talking about the Damiyo's upcoming visit. In two days, the man would arrive at the village, after a day of discussions and negotiations, he would be hosting the yearly evening event. The same event Haku was supposed to dance at.

Zabuza actually laughed at that, congratulating the boy. To sleep with nobility at the age of fourteen was most definitely some kind of record for a Kiri shinobi.

"Zabuza..." Haku began.

"Hm?" The swordsman grunted.

"Do you think we're going to make it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know if I'll make it, but you're not fighting him."

Haku's eyes widened. "But Zabuza, I can help... I could..."

"No."

"But..."

"I will be the one facing against the Mizukage, Haku. You are far too important to lose your life chasing after my ambitions."

The boy crossed his arms, frowning. "This injury is nothing. I can still fight."

"Against genin and chunin. Yagura made Kage for a reason. I'll need you to keep people from interfering with the fight."

The boy closed his eyes, thinking over the swordsman's decision. He wanted to help, and was fairly certain he could, given a chance. But Zabuza was right, odds are that despite the Mist's laws regarding the inheritance of Kage title through combat, the Kiri shinobi wouldn't take the demon's appearance standing down. With a sigh, the boy agreed.

"Alright. It will be as you say, Zabuza."

The swordsman shook his head. "Damn it, Haku. You know why I'm making the call. We were lucky in the Wave, and I don't want to push that luck any more than I'm doing right now."

The boy sighed once more, nodding in acceptance. "I understand."

After giving the boy a long look, the swordsman stood up, placing his blade onto his back once more. He had a village to harass, and he had a feeling he'd run into that man once again.

* * *

><p>Haku returned to the village, not a soul knowing where he was for the past two hours. He made his way to the palace, more quiet than usual. He sought out the princess, only to hear that she was busy helping out at the academy. With a shrug, the boy set off for the academy as well.<p>

The streets of Nadeshiko oft reminded him of the hidden Mist. He had only seen his nation's ninja capital from afar, but the sense of belonging was still there. Wide, curvy streets, cobblestone and grayish brick alternating in different village quarters.

He walked into the academy yard, strolling past the empty training field. Something was wrong, there were no children anywhere. In fact, the whole academy seemed to be empty. His eyes narrowed. His guard ready, Haku walked in.

Empty. Apparently, there was no one in the academy. This impression changed as soon as a trio of senbon landed at his feet. Haku looked up, facing the red and white mask of Kiri hunter ANBU. There were two of them.

"Turn yourself in, Yuki. We know of your affiliation with the demon."

Haku shook his head. Wearing kimono with large sleeves was convenient to conceal exactly when you're weaving hand signs. Anything that gave you the element of surprise was an ideal tool for a ninja. Working through a set of three, Haku tried to flash-freeze the two to the ceiling, only to have the female ANBU drag her colleague away to the side. Probably a sensory type, as they have an easier time telling when and where the Hyoton chakra materializes.

The appearance of these two brought a whole host of problems. The fight itself could get attention, they could break off and blow his cover, they could actually beat him, and even if he does manage to subdue them, the only way to keep them quiet for good would be to kill them, and that would be betraying Zabuza's wishes...

"You should not have come here, ANBU..." The boy spoke in a fairly menacing tone of voice. He tracked their movements with little difficulty, still scanning to see if there were more than the two that had already engaged. He sidestepped another barrage of senbon, retaliating with one of his own. Training every day, he was getting close to perfecting the Ice Style: Senbon. What he still needed was control...

Well, no better way to perfect it than trial by combat, right?

The two ANBU separated, attacking in tandem with Water Style: Water Whip Jutsu. While he had to admire their skill, Haku was still fast enough to stay out of their reach. Still, the hunters were far from done, as they easily dodged each and every one of Haku's retaliation assaults. At this rate, the stalemate would drag on long enough for someone to find them.

Haku threw himself over one of the tables, taking cover from another barrage of senbon. If the two ANBU are approaching from either side of the room, he could maybe... but that would be too risky... No. The success of Zabuza's mission depends on him keeping his cover intanct. Haku couldn't simply let these men ruin everything for them. He quickly did two rotations of hand signs, smirking when the mirrors appeared near the hunter-nin.

As the two exchanged panicked looks, trying to get as far as they could from the mirrors, Haku kept working his signs, feeling his chakra dwindle with every rotation, placing another crystal ice mirror in the room. If he kept at it, he would have them locked in.

"Move! He's trying to funnel us in!" One of them shouted as they left the classroom, throwing something over towards Haku's side of the hallway. Kicking it to the side, the boy frowned as the smoke started spreading from where the bomb landed. Smoke was _very visible_.

Dismissing his mirrors, the boy felt a small surge of chakra, the bit that he could recover from the wasted jutsu. His heart was beating faster already, and his chest was hurting a bit. The longer the fight drags on, the less chance that he will make it. He needed to decide it with the next attack.

Using the cover of smoke, he reached out with his chakra, picking up the presences of the two ANBU. Whatever they were doing, it required them to stand still... Nodding his head with a grim resolve, the boy went through his hand signs twice more, intent on finishing the battle.

There was no one more important in the world to him than Zabuza. To be the reason for the failure of his mentor's dream would be the greatest shame for Haku. Allowing the two hunters to get away would mean blowing his cover, which would in turn end the mission then and there. No matter how convincing he is, the village leadership will trust the official hunter ANBU units.

He needed to act as shinobi do. He needed to ignore his merciful heart. There was simply no other option...

Haku stepped back, entering the mirror he left in the classroom. Almost instantly, he appeared behind the two men, moving so quick than neither knew which Haku was the real one and which was simply an afterimage. Both men felt a small hand press against their back.

"Ice Style: Ice Prison Jutsu."

Chakra flared, water and air shaping into one, encasing the two ANBU completely in ice. Dispelling the three leftover mirrors, the boy walked up to the large chunks of ice, staring at the masks the hunter-nin were wearing. They were so similar to his own mask... the mask he wasn't wearing right now.

What he was about to do, he would do as Haku, the last of the Hyoton bloodline. He would do it as a shinobi in his own right, and he would do it for Zabuza.

He made the ram sign, then pressed his hands together. "Ice Style: Deep Freeze Jutsu..."

The ice seemed to gloss over, the images of the two shinobi becoming hidden in the depths of the icy blocks. Haku turned his hands over so that the palms face outwards. As if he was parting water, he pulled his hands apart. As he did so, the ice blocks parted as well, revealing that whatever was inside them was now frozen and chilled beyond all recognition, dark masses what seemed like frozen dust in the ice.

With a sigh, the Yuki allowed the ice to dissipate, leaving the dark dust to cover the hallway. He shook his head, then went back into the classroom to get rid of the senbon. If anyone asked about the smoke, he would say it was a prank left forgotten by a student.

His heart finally slowed down, the pain in his chest replaced by a cold numbness. Even in the name of his mentor's dream, Haku did not take killing lightly. But this was unavoidable, the ANBU left him with no other choice...

Sighing again, the boy left the academy, content with roaming the village aimlessly for a while, at least until he clears his head.

* * *

><p>Zabuza leapt back, deflecting another series of ranged attacks. On his way back from his meeting with Haku, he intentionally ran into an ambush, spending the following hour slowly decreasing the number of people he was fighting against.<p>

One thing in particular convinced him to set off their trap - the man from last time was among the shinobi intending to bring him down. For some reason, that man refused to back down, no matter how badly Zabuza beat his comrades.

They clashed blades once or twice, the man wielding a similarly large sword as his weapon of choice, but were forced apart when someone else tried to catch the mist assassin off guard. Still, Zabuza was left wanting more. There was something about him...

Ducking an earth-style jutsu, the swordsman knocked the air out of some unfortunate kunoichi by slamming the hilt of his blade straight into het gut. As the woman bent over, Zabuza used her as a pivot for a jump, avoiding yet another earth jutsu. Why they were trying to bring him down with C-Rank jutsu was beyond him.

Feeling a kunai graze his side, he lashed out with a sideways swing with the kubikiribocho, wielding it as a paddle more than a blade. Another unfortunate kunoichi was caught in his swing, probably hoping to get past his guard up close. She was floored, and didn't seem to be getting up any time soon.

The number of enemies was dwindling rapidly. There were no more than a dozen left by now, not counting the man with the bastard sword. Zabuza was saving him for last.

Making a tiger seal, Zabuza created a water clone, and the now doubled swordsman charged his scattered foes, intending to bring them all down. Even at a mere tenth of his power, the clone was good enough to hold nearly half of the shinobi and kunoichi off while the original eliminated them one at a time.

Leading the last two foes through the forest, Zabuza bobbed and weaved between the surprisingly thick forestry, having dispelled his clone to make the fight more fair. The two shinobi in pursuit were doing good to keep up, but they lost track of a very important fact...

Just as they were nearing the clearing where most of the ambush force lay unconscious or injured, Zabuza sprung his trap, using the leftover water from his clone to create a water whip and easily take out the last of the uninteresting shinobi.

This only left the opposing swordsman, a man with short dark hair and a white kimono he kept open, showing off a well-built physique. With a grunt, the man got into stance, holding his blade pointed at the former swordsman of the Mist. He was tired, alone, and fairly bruised... but he wasn't out for the count just yet.

"Damn... you live up to your reputation, demon of the Mist."

Zabuza dashed forward, intending to crush the man beneath the kubikiribocho's weight, only to see that the man blocked the attack, if only barely. He smirked, placing some distance between them by trying to take him off his feet with a low sweep.

"All these ninja... they're all pushovers. Not you. What is your name, swordsman?"

The Nadeshiko swordsman blocked the incoming series of attacks, each one slowly getting closer to breaking through. He wasn't going to last much longer, that was for sure.

"Kei... My name is Kei. Why are you attacking my village, Zabuza? What is your goal?"

Zabuza dashed in once more, swinging his executioner's blade with inhumane strength. One of the blows unbalanced the defending swordsman enough for the demon to floor him with a kick.

"My goal..." the demon began, trailing off upon noticing that the fight isn't yet over.

Dropping his blade, Zabuza stomped down on the man's arm, making him release the grip on his own sword. Swinging his leg around, the demon kicked the man's sword away, towards an unconscious kunoichi. Seeing the man go for his kunai pouch with his other arm, Zabuza stomped down on the other one too, getting a cry of pain from the swordsman.

"My goal is still distant. That said, I won't stop until I reach it." Stated the demon flatly, kneeling down over his injured foe. He pulled down his bandages, revealing a shark-like grin.

"I will terrorize your village as I see fit, but I won't stick around much longer. I will see you at the Daimyo's evening event, Kei of Nadeshiko."

With that, the demon landed a punch to the man's chin, instantly knocking him out.

Standing up, picking up the kubikiribocho, Zabuza took a minute to admire his work. A dozen enemy shinobi, not one dead or mortally injured. Heck, he doubted that any one of them would stay hospitalized for more than a week. It wasn't quite fighting off ANBU, but it was close enough. Besides, he'd have Haku when time came to face Kiri shinobi...

Double checking that everyone was out cold, the demon retreated from that part of the forest, heading back to his camp. He would remember Kei of Nadeshiko as the one worthwhile opponent in a village full of insignificant ones. Why? No one else stuck out all that much, really. Besides, forgetting battles was not a good thing for a ninja.

Picking up pace, Zabuza began planning how he's going to crash the Daimyo's event.

* * *

><p><strong>Was that...character development? *squints eyes* Maybe.<strong>

**Anyways, hope I'm not smothering you with all the minor fights every chapter.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Do leave a review! Next one is probably another interlude (unless it turns out not to be)!**


	15. Book 1 - Chapter 13

**Sorry for the long break. Kinda got carried away writing chapters for Book 2.**

* * *

><p>Shizuka walked around the village, having just finished helping the academy teachers lead the academy-level infiltration mission throughout Nadeshiko's many stores. Each would-be graduate should be able to steal from a store where the shopkeeper is on alert. For some reason, accessory shops were fairly popular spots, the academy having long since learned exactly what gets stolen from each one.<p>

She was looking for Haku, but her search was, for the most part, fruitless. Before she could give up, though, she noticed a wisp of smoke coming from the academy itself, and decided to investigate. She wasn't aware of what happened there, just like no one else from the village knew of the confrontation that played out in the rooms of that very academy.

He was sitting in front of the academy, arms crossed and staring into the distance. For the few days that they knew each other, she never really saw him without some kind of smile. As he sat there, not only was he missing his smile, but he was obviously pained by something. With sure step, the princess of Nadeshiko walked into view.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

The boy raised his head, blinked, then brushed some of his hair away. It was obvious that he was trying to force a smile to his lips. "You found me."

He made one last effort to force the smile, but then gave up, letting the frown he was holding back come to his visage in full force. He heaved a sigh, then moved over to let her sit down next to him. How was he supposed to explain this whole mess? Sure, his techniques made sure there was no evidence left, but she'd surely notice something off... and informing Zabuza would be much, much harder.

While not completely sure about sitting down on the ground while wearing a skirt, she still did so, doing her best to take the least risky position. Turning her head to the boy who was essentially her roommate, the princess asked the one question that was on her mind. "What's wrong, Haku?"

The boy returned her look, giving a soft smile. A complete contrast to his former expression, the smile still looked truly genuine. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Worried? About what?"

"Zabuza." The boy answered.

The girl cocked an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. "Zabuza Momochi, the demon of the mist? What does he have to do with you?"

"During my travels, I've run into him a couple of times. He's not a nice man..." A weak lie, but he hoped it would be enough to steer the girl away from the real relationship between the two Kiri-born men.

"And you're worried he'll be coming for you now, is that it?" She asked.

Haku offered a weak nod.

Shizuka smiled, standing up and taking a few steps away from the boy.

"The kunoichi of Nadeshiko are strong ninja, they'll drive him off for sure! And even if they don't, I'll protect you! I'm supposed to lead this village one day, and I can't have rouge ninja threatening the people who depend on me!"

If Haku was afraid of the man, she had little hopes of actually doing anything to stop the demon of the mist, but the boy told her that having a reason to fight makes you strong. If she fought to protect him, and the village, she would definitely be strong enough to at least hold the rogue ninja off for a while.

Haku smiled, standing up. Hearing Shizuka's bold claim was enough to at least put him back on track. Hearing that someone was willing to fight for him... it made what he just did hurt a bit less. He was still sad, knowing that almost everything he had told the girl was a lie in one way or another, but some small part of him felt gratitude for her words.

While he might not be happy with what had to be done, there was still solace to be found in the fact that he was important enough to be worth saving. A shinobi world was often full of mistrust, with good reason, but to see that people could still put their faith in others was something the boy could appreciate.

When he and Zabuza move on from the village of kunoichi, he will remember his time here fondly.

"In that case, when the time comes, I will stand alongside you. I cannot sit idly by as the danger my arrival brought threatens the village that was so hospitable to me."

Shizuka smiled at that, looking over at the rest of the village, a tired look suddenly washing over her countenance. The threat of the former swordsman of the Mist couldn't have come at a worse time. Her mother, as well as the rest of the village leadership, were at the end of their nerves, having recently sent the ANBU out in an attempt to drive the swordsman away, or bring him in.

If he were to somehow reach the daimyo... the political implications would ruin Nadeshiko forever, showing that their village isn't strong enough to defend itself from one single man. No matter how strong he was, even Zabuza should eventually fall to the number of ninja sent after him, right?

At least Haku will be there. While they never talked about it, she could see the impact of whatever hardships he faced reflected in his eyes. It must be a terrifying life, fleeing from your own home, having to stay away from a man like Zabuza Momochi... She could only admire Haku's strength, his resolve not to let all that weight show in any way.

She didn't want to see him taken away by some rouge ninja.

* * *

><p>What kind of ninja unit attacks a water specialist under a waterfall!?<p>

Zabuza was shocked and disappointed with the way the enemy force was handling his presence. To be desperate enough to try and surprise him by attacking him in an area no level-headed shinobi would ever attempt to was simply idiotic. What came next was completely deserved.

Ducking out of view, Zabuza began weaving hand signs, intending to reach the forty signs needed for a greater water dragon. The enemy unit would be washed away, leaving him to simply pick off any potential stragglers.

While not terribly good as combat practice, the shinobi forces of Nadeshiko reacted much like any other ninja force would, being useful enough to help spark the beginning of an idea in the swordsman's mind. Approaching Yagura directly was impossible, but if he were to create the illusion of danger everywhere, the paranoid Mizukage was more likely to make a mistake.

Of course, it had to be a pretty good trick if he hoped to play someone with Yagura's experience and skill. Not only was the childlike Kage a fearsome warrior and an extraordinary battle tactician, he was also one of the three jinchuriki to have completely gained control of their tailed beasts, next to Roshi of the hidden Stone, as well as the Raikage's brother, whose name Zabuza did not know.

He'd need to drag him out somehow, force him to make the first mistake, and press the advantage. But to really shake someone like him up, the threats would need to spread rapidly through the entire village, each one possibly worse than the last one. Of course, the able shinobi of the Water would deal with the problems, leading to Zabuza's own public capture.

That was the problem, any realistic scenario Zabuza could come up with would always end up with him either captured or killed...

"There he is! B-team, move in!"

So it wasn't a foolish assault... it was a plan to lure him out and make him waste chakra. Still, they must have been desperate to divert so much manpower just to ensure that he'd take the bait.

Two dozen Nadeshiko ANBU, all armed to the teeth with the best possible gear, came rushing out of the forest, trying to force the swordsman into the corner. Somewhere among them a dark-haired man in a kimono, with a bastard sword in his hand, was moving, intent on finally stopping the Demon of the Mist.

_/OST: Glued State, Bad Situation, Strong and Strike, Lightning Speed/_

Zabuza paused to assess the situation. He was seriously outnumbered, and his chakra was roughly at three quarters... The enemy were ANBU, the best trained operatives in the village, backed up and probably led by the one man who was good enough to stick out from the rest of the common rabble. Taking them all at once would be nearly impossible, while attempting to retreat to the waterfall once more would leave him open to anything they might try and throw at him, be it weapon or jutsu.

Water clones wouldn't help, as the ANBU were more than enough to handle weak constructs like clones. Spending chakra to create water for a jutsu was also a poor choice, due to the possibility of a triple-layered ambush. While it was unlikely, the mere possibility of such a trap would mean certain death after dealing with this second attack.

No, he needed something else, something to even the odds... and he had just the tool. Straightening himself up, he formed the tiger seal, then raised his arm straight up.

"Hidden Mist Jutsu!"

Thick fog materialized on the battlefield, bringing the attack to a sudden stop. The ANBU withdrew, aware that a jutsu like that was the least favorable place to engage an assassination expert. For all intents and purposes, Zabuza now had the advantage.

Nearby, perched atop one of the rocky cliffs that watched over the valley leading to the waterfall, Kei smirked, pleased with the fact that his plan was going roughly as expected. Ideally, the swordsman would try and take them all, dooming himself to C-Team's ambush, but the hiding in mist technique was also something he had accounted for. The swordsman was terrorizing the village long enough!

He stood up, taking a deep breath. While usually a quiet man, Kei knew that even one's voice was a useful tool on the battlefield, and was ready to use it as such. In this instance, he'd shout to get the bladesman's attention, potentially misleading him.

"Don't let the mist deter you! Attack, full force!" He shouted, then leapt from the cliff, the sole shinobi to do so. The rest of the unit were already setting themselves up around the fog, readying seal scrolls intended to nullify Zabuza's jutsu. They would remove the fog, and then they'd attack the swordsman himself. If he tried the jutsu again, not only would he be burning chakra, but the new jutsu wouldn't last nearly as long.

oOoOoOo

That man was a fool. Trying to attack a swordsman of the mist in the confines of this jutsu was no different from suicide! Still, just because the man was a fool, didn't mean he'd get a free pass.

Using the man's voice as a starting point, Zabuza prowled through the mist, intent on tracking down and knocking out the Nadeshiko swordsman. He would thoroughly embarrass the man by defeating him and the ANBU, and he would do so again the next day, in the village palace, right in front of the Daimyo.

The wood of a sandal pressing against dirt, the soft tap of cloth against skin, even the smooth contact between a sword and it's sheath, all were enough to guide the Demon, but his prey seemed reluctant to give him even that... If he intended to wait the jutsu out, he had another thing coming. Focusing his chakra, Zabuza pushed his hearing far beyond standard human ability, hearing a steady rhythm with growing clarity.

If he could not hear the man's voice, he would hear his heart instead.

Locating the Nadeshiko jonin, Zabuza smirked, then took to the man's direction, step light and quiet. He didn't need anything more than a simple punch; one hit would be more than enough to knock someone like him out for the remainder of the fight.

Accidentally coming across one of the ANBU, Zabuza silently took her down, a jab to a vital point more than enough to overload the sensory system and make the body shut down involuntarily. While sneaking up on an ANBU would usually be a challenge, it was child's play for Zabuza, for whom the mist was an ideal battlefield.

However, just as he was approaching the man's unguarded back, Zabuza noticed something strange. The mist... it was not as thick as he had made it to be, and the jutsu wasn't supposed to start dissipating yet...

Trusting his ninja instinct over his desire to bring the foe down, Zabuza retreated, finding a decent hiding spot atop one of the many trees that littered the valley. He watched, his lips curved into a frown, as four bright seals absorbed the entirety of his jutsu, revealing the ring of ANBU that had taken up position around the center- around Kei.

So it _was _a trap. The Nadeshiko swordsman had predicted the jutsu, which meant that he was either expecting him to try and take them all down under the cover of fog, or was still playing the positioning game, waiting for the right moment to strike...

Just as the idea came to his mind, Zabuza instinctively ducked, just in time to avoid a slash from what seemed to be a standard short sword, carried by many ninja who didn't like the short range of the kunai. Throwing his arm out, the demon caught the assailant's head, bashing it against the tree trunk twice, letting the now unconscious body fall to the ground. Before it even hit, Zabuza had disappeared in a shunshin, taking up position on a different tree, intending to see what the Nadeshiko unit had in store.

This was it, the all-in, the assault that was meant to take him down. Zabuza had to admire the village's tenacity with the whole thing. No matter how hard he beat them, they kept coming back, and he'd recognize some of their faces right before knocking them down again. It was a game of stamina now, and the Demon of the Mist wasn't intending to lose.

oOoOoOo

Kei frowned. He had intended to use himself as bait, luring Zabuza into a position from where he couldn't escape. For some reason, the Demon saw through the trap, and had instead decided to flee. He couldn't have gone far, as C-Team was ordered to watch the entire perimeter just in case of something like this happening... still, it wasn't a good situation. Yet again, the rouge ninja from the Mist had the advantage, no matter how slim.

He ordered the ANBU to spread out and search, taking special care to travel in groups. Having been part of their ranks himself ever since the conclusion of the Third War, Kei was well respected among them, and not one of the operatives had issues with working under his command. In fact, he was next in line for captain, but had decided to leave ANBU before the position was offered to him.

Almost immediately, a kunoichi came up, informing him of the operative that Zabuza had managed to knock out. Apparently, the ANBU was still an upstart, and had intended to prove herself by bringing the Demon down with a surprise attack. She had failed.

"Damn it..." He needed the sensory types, but most of them were either hospitalized by Zabuza, or away ensuring that the Daimyo would arrive safely. Searching for a foe of Zabuza's caliber without the aid of tracker ninja was a dangerous and foolish endeavor.

Another came up, informing him that two groups have been taken out. Then another followed, repeating the exact same words the one before had spoken. Kei shook his head, ordering that the rest of the ANBU regroup. Running around aimlessly would only cost them people. He needed to flush him out.

"I didn't want to use them yet, but it looks like there's no other choice. Summon the hounds, he won't be able to hide from them."

The ANBU nodded, then scattered, rounding up the chosen few that had ninken as their personal summons. The assembled group all worked through the same hand signs, summoning up a pack of ninja dogs. Kei looked them over, nodding at the lot of them. Crouching down, he offered a thin strip of cloth to the dogs. It was the only thing of Zabuza's he could have taken, and getting it required taking a punch to the jaw. Still, if it meant that this mission would succeed, he'd accept that.

Their target obvious, the dogs immediately bolted to the northwest, having detected the man's scent. No matter how good you are at hiding your tracks, you can't escape a ninja dog up close without genjutsu or advanced body modification techniques. This was something Kei learned the hard way over the years.

He had lost just over half a dozen ANBU by the time they had him cornered. At every turn, the Demon had given them the slip, either proving to be a water clone, or pulling off moves that regular ninja simply couldn't do, leaping over the entirety of the pursuit force and bolting in the opposite direction. With each encounter, the swordsman managed to take out one or two ninja, slowly working towards an advantage.

However, they had him cornered now, his back was to the wall, and there was nowhere to go. He'd either have to power through them all, or he'd give up.

"It appears you've run out of options, Demon of the Mist. Though I must say I'm surprised that you're still doing your best to keep all of us alive. Why would you keep working like that? Wouldn't it be easier to permanently remove the threat?"

The swordsman gave him a dark look, then shook his head. He was in battle stance, the sheer killing intent he was pumping out the only thing that had kept them from attacking and ending the man's terror spree. With the obvious advantage, Kei found it prudent to at least try and get some answers. However, even he didn't expect Zabuza's next words.

"You're a fool. You've set your traps, your ambushes and seals, and you believe that it's enough to defeat _me._"

He rolled his shoulders, aiming the tip of the kubikiribocho straight at the kimono-wearing swordsman of Nadeshiko."But you fail to realize that nothing you can come up with is going to stop me from reaching my goals. You should have brought the whole village, Kei of Nadeshiko, **because this pathetic force isn't nearly enough to stop me**!"

With a roar, the Demon of the Mist threw himself into the fray, the visage of a water demon hanging in the air above him. The ANBU unit of Nadeshiko never stood a chance. They were warned that Zabuza was not a man to be taken lightly, but the way he was now, as he mercilessly beat on the brunt of Nadeshiko's military power, sending people flying into trees and down the valley, never once killing them, they knew all was lost.

C-Team never made it in time.

* * *

><p>"Come Haku, let's dance!" Shizuka spoke, pressing the button on the radio.<p>

The civilian radio stations in Nadeshiko had a tendency to play dance music for a couple of days before the Daimyo's visit, in order to help the people prepare for the big event. While not everyone was allowed into the palace itself, the whole village generally took part in feasts and dances for the entire night. It was a tradition that quickly became popular, the only reason it wasn't a proper festival being the fact that the village leader wasn't very interested in matters of faith, refusing to take the time to go through all the proper rituals necessary to start an annual religious festival.

Haku, who was not much of a dancer, seemed to be making good progress. While neither he nor Shizuka were very dominant personalities, their combined patience ensured that both would quickly get over any mistakes in either form or approach, leading to their first successful dance not three songs in.

"You're not bad. If we can dance like this at the Daimyo's event, no one's going to complain. We'll be the highlight of the evening!" She declared, smiling brightly.

It was strange. She never remembered herself smiling this much. In the last couple of days, the things that usually bothered her, like her mother's constant nagging, or the boys that always seemed to want to challenge her, were completely absent from her life.

Adding to that, she had regular spars with Haku, whose Ice Style techniques still didn't stop surprising her, even after several days. Each time she'd think she'd learned all his tricks, only to have him freeze her to the ground in some new, imaginative way.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never been part of a large event like a Daimyo's visit, so I'm curious to see how it'll play out."

_/OST: Many Nights/_

Hopefully he could reach Zаbuza and convince him to leave before the Daimyo arrives. He wouldn't want to cause Shizuka and her mother any more grief than necessary. It was already enough that they had given him their hospitality... Zabuza's presence was a stress to them.

They would just leave, suddenly and with no words of parting. They would go to the Land of Water, and they'd finally finish their years of exile. They had both killed and suffered because of the Mizukage and their decisions, so it would only be fair that the two of them would bring the Yondaime down.

Haku didn't care how strong Yagura was. He had been practicing... he was strong enough to take out two hunter-nin without raising the alarm. He was strong enough to kill them.

Becoming a shinobi... what was the purpose of such a decision? Was keeping true to one's own nature more important than saving the life of an entire village, or helping the man who had given your life purpose? If he didn't choose to fight, to reach after Zabuza's dream, would he be making the right choice? Their path was one of pain and death, no matter how many lives they manage to spare.

_Men like us walk only towards death. Would you follow him that far?_

Haku recalled the dark-eyed Itachi, the strangely somber man that he had spent those few days travelling with. At first, he had answered automatically. He had indeed given his all to Zabuza, and would do so as many times as he could, but...

No, he would support Zabuza in anything. His own wishes could wait. Once the Mist was liberated of the tyrannical Mizukage, then he could perhaps choose what he will do with his life, which dream he would pursue. Until then, he would be the tool he had so many times referred to himself as.

"You're strangely quiet." Shizuka noticed, sitting down to the pale Yuki.

He turned his head, registering that the radio had long since been switched off, and that he had been thinking for a while now. He gave her a soft smile in apology.

"Forgive me, I'm just nervous."

"About the dance?" She asked, the hope that that's the reason very obvious on her face. However, it soon died out. "Or is it about Zabuza?"

Haku sighed. So many things could go wrong the next day. He had no way to contact Zabuza before, and the swordsman had made it painfully clear that he would be crashing the Daimyo's event. Odds are, wherever the two of them meet, Shizuka would get in the way. He didn't want to see her get hurt, not by Zabuza's hand, nor by the truth he had been concealing from her all this time.

While she was kind and caring, she was still a princess. Her life was easy and comfortable; hunger, cold and hunter-nin were never a problem for her. She would never understand the reason he had to be at Zabuza's side.

The problem was that he had made a mistake, allowing himself to get attached to the girl. That was two mistakes he had made over the course of his mission, and he wasn't sure if he could afford making a third one...

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, I'll admit that I have no idea how many chapters I'll need to close out Book 1.<strong>

**It could be two more, or it could be five. Just bear with me, ok?**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, leave a review; I'll feel guilty and write faster!**


	16. Book 1 - Chapter 14

**Young Naruto with the vest looks pretty boss, don't you think? (Anime episode 389)**

* * *

><p>"Everyone? He managed to hospitalize everyone without killing a single shinobi?"<p>

The leader of Nadeshiko village was stunned. Not once in her life did she think a situation like this was possible... The Daimyo about to arrive to the village, and a dangerous missing-nin taking down the entirety of her forces. To even think of something like that happening was absurd, but there it was, a situation ready to reach its' boiling point.

"Yes. Master Kei's plan was executed flawlessly, but despite that, the demon just powered through their ranks." The ANBU wearing a squid mask offered, keeping his head bowed.

She shook her head in disbelief, motioning for the ANBU to leave. Why now, of all times? What did Zabuza Momochi have to gain by threatening the Daimyo of the Land of Sea? It made no sense whatsoever... Maybe he could be bargained with, since he seemed to be intent on keeping everyone alive? Perhaps it was an attempt to seek asylum in the village?

No, no, that wasn't it. The Demon of the Mist was first and foremost a warmonger, a landless rebel whose sole impact on the ninja world was the chaos he caused everywhere he showed up. A man like him could not be reasoned with.

She sighed.

There wasn't a way out. If he was so inclined, he could easily infiltrate the evening event. Almost the entirety of Nadeshiko was out of commission or tired. But surely he would be tired too?

No, that would be too convenient... She had no doubt that the Daimyo will lay eyes on the Demon of the Mist that day, one way or another. Only thing she could do was make sure she was there when it happened.

Sighing, the woman looked over her reception hall. Nadeshiko barely qualified as a full-blown ninja village, mainly due to population problems; the thick forestry dissuades most people from pursuing a life and career in the village. This is why, instead of a standard office, the leader of the village had a reception hall- nobles provided the bulk of the village's funding, and they expected some of the extravagance and formality they grow used to in the capital and their own palaces.

If she were to choose, she'd long since retire to an office, just like the Kage do...

"Shizuka, I will need you and the Yuki to watch over the Daimyo's group. I will watch the man personally, but I need someone reliable to take care of the rest of them. Tell the Yuki that this is to be his final test- should he prove himself useful, he will be granted asylum in the village."

The girl nodded, wearing her 'court' face, a stony expression that betrayed almost no emotion whatsoever. She bowed her head, walking out of the hall the moment her mother waved, dismissing her.

She meandered through the hallways, finding her way to the yard.

Between the palace's many towers, the thick city walls, and the dark gray sky, the whole atmosphere seemed oppressive. There weren't any ninja dashing to and fro, and most of the civilians remained inside due to the colder winds and threat of rain. The village seemed unusually empty, a state in which Shizuka rarely saw it.

Haku had opted to stay behind in their tower, practicing his Ice Style. It was an amazing power, one that the boy always kept using in new ways. The trick she found most interesting was the one where he'd throw wet senbon in retaliation to a shuriken attack, using some jutsu to freeze the two together, sending it back at her with the added mass. Of course, that was just one of his tricks... if he were to fight seriously, she reckoned he could take on chunin with ease.

Still, she didn't return to him immediately. Instead, she found a spot outside the palace, sitting down and simply watching the village. She was dressed in the standard shinobi jumpsuit, with a light jacket thrown over just to stop her from looking too plain... by the looks of things, it'd help with the rain as well.

No sooner than she thought that did the sky begin to leak raindrops. Barely a minute after the first drop, it was already a full-blown shower, soaking the facades and creating small puddles at the sides of the streets.

Shizuka smiled. She liked the rain, mostly because of the tactical advantages it brought. It was easier to sneak up on people because the sound drowned out your steps, and basic water jutsu were almost costless with so much water around. Not that she had any; she was a wind girl through and through.

After a while, she saw a few shinobi entering the village. Not long after, the Daimyo's convoy arrived, being escorted quickly towards the palace. As soon as they made their way to the palace gate, she too would go inside, mostly just to properly welcome the Daimyo. She didn't much care about the man, but diplomacy often required doing things for people you don't really care about...

With a soft sigh, she stood up, threw her hood up, then quickly made her way across the yard to the dry interior of the palace. It didn't take long for her to run into her own mother, given the fact that most every one of the hallways led to the reception hall in one way or another.

"Ah, there you are." The woman spoke, motioning for her daughter to approach. "Come, the Daimyo is arriving any second now."

Joining her mother, walking down one of the many hallways, Shizuka adjusted her clothes and gear, trying to look as best she can for the first impression.

They arrived into the reception hall, the tension somewhat noticeable in the air. The Daimyo's visit was usually a nerve-wracking event, only made worse by the presence of the Demon of the Mist.

Noticing that Haku was already there, wearing the slightly more ornate Kimono she had picked out for him, she smiled. Whatever was about to happen, they would get through it together, watching each other's back. They would do their best and protect the Daimyo, it was as simple as that...

Soon enough, the doors opened, revealing the burly man that was the lord of the Land of Sea. He was standing in front of the entire group, the men and women behind him being either relatives or bodyguards, sometimes both. He gave the room a decently long look, then slowly began to walk to the village leader, watching as the woman inclined her head in respect. Returning the gesture, he gave the room one more look before speaking.

"I'm disappointed, Rei. I come to visit my land's village, expecting a reception worthy of someone of my title, and I'm greeted with somber faces and nervous glances."

"I apologize, my lord. We have recently ran into trouble..." She began, only to be interrupted by the man.

"Say nothing more!" He all but yelled, displeasure more obvious on his face. "One single rogue ninja was all it took to bring you to this sorry state!"

Having no answer to that, the leader of Nadeshiko village, Shizuka's mother, only bowed her head. She stayed like that, apparently having no intention of moving. Narrowing his eyes a bit, the Daimyo, a man known for his ability to work within the confines of both regular politics as well as ninja politics, sighed.

"Raise your head, Rei. Your village was chosen over the others for a reason. We shall hold council, like we do every year, and then we will proceed to the evening event." He paused, looking out the window and seeing the dim lights of the village. "I will be glad to see this rogue ninja of yours, should he decide to show up. I want to lay my own eyes on the man who could put this much pressure on an entire village."

"It will be so, my lord." The village leader answered curtly.

* * *

><p>A village roughly fifth the size of the hidden mist, with less than a tenth of its' population. Filled to the brim with surprisingly persistent ninja, Nadeshiko was a convenient rest stop for the former swordsman of the Mist, serving to prepare him for the real trial that lied ahead - returning to the Hidden Mist Village.<p>

However, before he could worry about that, there was the matter of the grand finale he had prepared for the place that had given him such convenient training grounds. One last prod at their defenses, retaliation of sorts for the all-out assault they had staged against him the previous day.

Against Kei and the ANBU, he fought as a swordsman, fighting with power and strength over cunning and guile. For the Daimyo's event, he would act as shinobi. He would sow panic and terror, enjoying the chaos that would surely follow. This village would be reminded why he was feared one more time before he left...

Positioned as it was, Nadeshiko was noticeably difficult to infiltrate. Having attempted to approach it several times over the course of his stay in the forest, the swordsman was always forced to retreat, unwilling to risk getting detected. In the end, he had chosen entering along with the Daimyo's convoy, replacing one of the bodyguards. Switching places with the man was easy enough, getting past the gate with such a disguise was easier still. How this place qualified as a ninja village was beyond him.

Ditching the convoy, Zabuza ducked into the back alleys of the village, keeping out of sight for the most part. The rainfall made concealing his presence somewhat harder, but it also made the patrolling shinobi more careless. Without the cover of civilian populace, every one of the remaining Nadeshiko ninja stuck out like sore thumbs in the poorly lit streets. He could try and take them all out outside of the palace, but that wouldn't create the effect he was looking for... no, for his plan to work, they needed to believe that he had no way of reaching the Daimyo without a massive fight.

Fortunately, he could start a massive fight and sneak up on the Daimyo all at once; it was a perk of being one of Kirigakure's best.

Keeping an eye on the patrolling units, the swordsman moved towards the palace, smirking to himself every time he would manage to get past a sentry that no doubt believed himself very attentive. However, instead of the palace itself, his target was the single tower where Haku and the village princess resided.

If Haku hadn't gone soft over his stay here, he would check his gear before setting off for the evening event. Going off of that assumption, the easiest way of warning the boy of what was going to happen was to leave a message concealed in his gear. Of course, doing so required getting into the tower first...

Thicker around the palace than in the village itself, the guards were also more vigilant, much more difficult to get past. While a notable bother, they were still worn-out and nervous, giving just enough room for the swordsman to slip past. Checking every shadow and every corner, Zabuza finally reached the room Haku had claimed to occupy, quickly finding evidence of that fact once he spotted the boy's personalized senbon cartridges; regular-issue cartridges aren't meant to handle the longer senbon that the Yuki liked to use.

Choosing that very set to be the place where he'd leave the message, Zabuza quickly scribbled down the few crucial bits of information, rolling up the note and hiding it away. Checking once more, he left the tower, intending to get into position well before the event itself began.

There were hours to kill until the main event, and the mist assassin had intended to simply study the layout of the building as much as he could without risking early exposure. Even with the home field advantage, the ninja of Nadeshiko were underwhelming as foes, their sole redeeming point their discipline and persistence.

Waiting for the opportune moment, Zabuza launched himself up the palace wall with a precisely timed shunshin, reaching one of the upper windows without being noticed. As a jutsu, the shunshin was effectively silent, the noise it makes negligible in comparison to the rain that was still coming down.

Pulling himself up, Zabuza found that the room he had arrived in seemed to be some kind of storage area, noticeably unguarded. Given the village's current state, he figured all hands were busy either watching over the Daimyo or still trying to track the 'Demon' down.

Little more than a glorified pantry, the room was a decent access point, allowing the man to casually make his way to the grand hall, the place the Daimyo would end up sooner or later. While some would find sneaking around difficult with a colossal sword on their back, he was used to it. Haku joked that his stealth would be all messed up if he didn't have the seversword on his back, a statement that was dangerously close to the truth...

Arriving to the grand hall, he took notice of the many civilians running to and fro, desperately trying to set everything up before the event began. Smirking, Zabuza clambered across the wall to a balcony watching over the majority of the hall, then snuck into the ventilation shaft above it. While too tight for him to normally fit, it ended up being just wide enough to slip into, staying in a semi-comfortable position. Eyes hidden behind a ventilation grate, the swordsman waited, slowly starting to plan out every likely approach angle for when the political figure finally showed up.

No matter how exciting ninja life can be, it can be just as uncomfortable and demeaning; having to wait in a cave for days for mission reports, stalking the same man for weeks on end to get that one moment when the kill will be untraceable, even the long-forgotten D-Rank missions of his academy days.

For his career as a shinobi, Zabuza had taken most every kind of mission at one time or another, working as a blade for hire or as a sword of the Hidden Mist. Experience like that made him dangerous, but it also made his susceptible to pride, the kind that almost killed him in the Land of Waves. Try as he might, that day kept coming back to him, a steady reminder of the promise he had made. No matter how good he was, Kakashi Hatake was better, and that irked him to no end...

Still, if he was to ever have a rematch, he needed to survive this village and make it to the Mist. Yagura would be ready, but he would be ready for the wrong man. What he expects is a swordsman, what he will get is a shinobi.

* * *

><p>Having finally finished sitting through the negotiations with the Daimyo, Haku walked over to his roommate, offering a neutral smile. No matter how disciplined, even the most steadfast of ninja could lose their cool when forced to wait due to trivialities.<p>

"Glad that's over." He spoke, trying to start up a conversation. Shizuka was much more quiet than she usually was around people, the reason for her nervousness all too apparent for the Yuki boy.

"Hm?" She raised her head, then nodded. "The downside of leading a village, I guess."

"What will we do now? There's still some hours before the banquet and dance."

The girl thought for a minute, then smiled. "A spar?"

Haku returned the smile, nodding. "So it will be."

They started towards the hallway network, intent on taking the path that kept them out of the rain. It did mean it'd take a while, but that was a compromise neither of them minded making. While the tension in the air around them was noticeable, both did their best to ignore it.

For Shizuka, the pressure of the Daimyo's visit weighed heavy on her nerves. She was supposed to not only represent her village, but herself as well, due to the fact she was next in line for title of leader. It was her duty to be the village's shield against threats like the Demon of the Mist; no matter how weak in comparison to him, Shizuka wouldn't hesitate in taking him on for a second. After all, people depended on her, the commoners more than the shinobi...

For Haku, the inevitable truth regarding the relationship between himself and Zabuza was the thing that burdened him most. When he appeared, Haku himself would surely be there as well. What if he needed to intervene? Just imagining the look on the faces of Shizuka and Leader Rei brought an uneasy feeling to his stomach... What if he had to kill them?

No, that was nonsense, he only had to kill the hunter-nin that threatened the success of Zabuza's plan. Their deaths were justified by the bigger picture, but... Maybe he shouldn't try helping against the Mizukage...

Not only was he impaired by his injury, but he was also slowly losing his nerve. Before the wave, it was simple, he was Zabuza's tool, a weapon to be pointed at someone who needed to be moved out of the way. Now... now that the bladesman himself had changed his ways, the blood felt all too heavy on his hands. No matter how hard he tried to justify it, it was still there, everlasting crimson... and it always came with a price.

"Haku..." Shizuka began, trailing off immediately. For some reason, she felt conflicted about what she wanted to say, but eventually forced herself to say it anyway. "Whatever happens tonight, I want to know that spending time with you was really fun."

As she spoke, her countenance took on a soft look, her eyes turning away almost instinctively. She felt heat to rise to her cheeks, silently beating herself up over the fact that she couldn't hide her real emotions at all. She was supposed to be a serious kunoichi, and there she was, crushing on a down and out wanderer that found his way into her village...

"I'm happy to hear that, Shizuka..." Haku spoke, every word tasting like poison, "spending time with you was a lot of fun for me as well. It's nice having some stability in your life..." As the lies continued, he threw on his practiced poker face, the one aspect of shinobi existence that he could rival Zabuza in. He had the uncanny ability to hide his true emotions better than anyone he'd met during his years as a rouge-nin's accomplice.

They quieted down after that, neither too comfortable looking at the other, for vastly different reasons. Soon enough, the hallways ended, revealing an archway that led into the yard. The sky was inky black already, starlight unable to break through the amassed clouds. Running across, the two barely even felt the raindrops before they were once again in the dry safety of the indoors.

Climbing up the stairs, Haku went up to get his gear, nodding at Shizuka to signal her to stay at the training floor while he sorted it out. Stepping into the room, he made a beeline for the senbon cartridges, flinching in surprise once he realized they were tampered with. With more care than the inspection actually warranted, he completely scanned the entire set, noticing that there weren't any visible seals set up on it. While there were no people after him specifically, there was always the chance of someone watching them for a long time.

To his mild relief, Haku noticed that the only thing left behind was a small paper note. Unfurling it, his eyes widened as the details of Zabuza's contribution to the evening's entertainment were listed in front of his eyes in edgy black font. His plan was unbelievably bold for someone of his reputation, but it sent the intended message very clearly. The Demon of the Mist was coming, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

However, that also meant that any chance for Haku getting away cleanly were out the window. He was going to have to face the consequences of his lies that evening, and there was no way around it... unless...

Maybe it was possible to keep the charade up longer? It would be the shinobi decision to make, making himself look innocent and helpless in the presence of the Demon. If his poker face was as good as people had led him to believe, he could fool the Nadeshiko kunoichi... still, that left Zabuza a completely unknown factor. He had no reason to play along with the boy's deceptions, and would inevitably cause enough chaos to make them apparent...

Furrowing his brow, Haku prepped his cartridges, descending down the stairs while deep in thought. Needless to say, Shizuka was the one to win that particular spar.

* * *

><p>First came the commoners. It was an extravagant feast for a village that small, with enough food to cater for anyone who happened to be around. The security sweep failed to detect his presence due to a carefully constructed genjutsu, the only one Zabuza had bothered learning - the Demonic Illusion: False Surroundings. Between the security shinobi's obvious exhaustion and the genjutsu, the odds of Zabuza getting discovered were slim to none.<p>

It was amusing to see the people mingle and have fun, completely unaware of the state of their own village... He had single-handedly brought the entirety of Nadeshiko to its' knees, and these people were oblivious to that fact. It spoke volumes of the village's civilian control, but such control was useless for a place that couldn't defend itself from a single A-Rank shinobi...

"Fucking A-Rank..." He muttered quietly, aware that the wealthier caste had already found its' way onto the balconies. Any shinobi could make A-Rank, the only reason they were so uncommon was due to the fact that many died trying to reach the next and final ranking.

S-Rank was not a description given lightly. Having a jutsu that could obliterate a village could get you B-Rank and that was it; you were no threat if people could sense you coming and take you out before you even knew they were there. Having a kekkei genkai set you up for B-Rank as well, due to the difficulty of facing bloodline abilities; kekkei tota, while near-extinct, were an automatic A, so long as the wielder wasn't brain-dead.

However, if one was determined to make S-Rank, they had to be one bad motherfucker. The thing is, there's only so many S-Rank ninja that can exist in the world... Some call it the law of conservation of ninjutsu, but Zabuza called that bullshit. The real reason why there was a limited number of individuals like that was half due to the absurd requirements, half due to the fact that you often needed to off one in order to get the spot. Taking out an S-Rank shinobi wasn't easy... in fact, it was suicidal for most people...

The easiest example was Kisame Hoshigaki. The man carried a sentient weapon that devoured chakra, was perhaps the deadliest bladesman save for his fellow Mist swordsman and maybe a few choice samurai, and had enough chakra and jutsu to one on one a _tailed beast. _Things like that make you S-Rank. That or, you know, cutting lightning bolts in half or slaughtering entire nations and armies.

Zabuza's goal in the Hidden Mist is to kill a S-Rank ninja. For some reason, he didn't feel intimidated in the slightest. Sure, when he fought Kakashi and Kisame, neither were giving it their 100%, but then again, neither was he. When it came down to unmistakable life or death, the Demon of the Mist was going to earn that thrice-damned rank.

After a while, the civilians cleared out, obviously uncomfortable by the influx of much fancier-dressed nobility. Most of Nadeshiko's clans began showing up as well, insignificant families with no notable bloodlines or heritage... Then again, Yagura was a nobody, as was the Yondaime Hokage...

With a frown plastered on his face, Zabuza watched as the clumsy nobles danced among themselves, the ninja present doing their best not to stick out too much with their clearly more refined motions.

That part of the event went on for the better part of the evening. At some point, Haku and his little princess also showed up, taking to the dancefloor and dancing the way only children can. It was an amusing sight for Zabuza, if slightly worrying; Haku was way too casual for someone who knew what was going to happen the moment the Daimyo moved to the center of the hall...

Could it be that little Haku got himself a crush? It was an interesting possibility, the boy was always too emotional for a proper shinobi... Then again, he was also one of the best actors Zabuza had ever seen, so that wasn't saying much. Whatever the case, he had his orders and would follow them to the letter.

oOoOoOo

He was out there, somewhere, watching.

This was the oft-recurring thought in Haku's mind as the night went on, his incoming panic becoming harder and harder to keep suppressed. He had changed to more formal garb, wearing clothes mostly picked out by Shizuka herself. While not terribly interesting, a simple Kimono base with a few accented details, they served their purpose. Still, no matter how nervous he was, his dancing was spot-on, far better than it was during their two rehearsals before the evening event.

Shizuka, on the other hand, had went all in. Tying back her hair into a wild-looking bun, she wore a long, tight fitting dress, her forehead protector being used as a fashion detail rather than a symbol of her affiliation. She spun on the dance floor with practiced grace, completely synchronized to the Yuki's lead. It wasn't long until they became the highlight of the floor, people giving them ample space for whatever they chose to do while still managing not to single them out.

All of a sudden, the lights dimmed.

At the doorway appeared the unmistakable silhouette of the Daimyo, followed closely by the slim figure of the village leader. The two of them were dressed in garb fitting of their positions, Rei even looking a tad more extravagant than the lord himself. The music died down as they entered, moving to take spots at the main table.

Even from where Haku stood, he could clearly tell who the security detail was, even through the very convincing henges. No matter how professional they were, Zabuza-sama had pushed them to the very edge, and it showed more than they thought. The Daimyo, who hadn't sat down yet, prepared himself to say a few words.

"Three years..." He began, looking over the silent crowd, most of them hidden in the shadows that now dominated the hall, "Three years did I come to this village, and three years did we host this celebration."

"While most would simply claim that I, as a noble, simply like celebrations, the reason goes a bit deeper than that." Some people chuckled, none of them being shinobi. "The reason for this event is to try and bring the worlds of shinobi and the rest of us a little closer, only if for a night..."

Even those that hadn't paid attention at the beginning were now focused on the Daimyo and his words, his speech enough to pique their curiosity. It was unusual for people with no ties to the shinobi world to try and understand it; while similarities were common, the rules were completely different in the world of mundane and the world of ninja.

"So drink, feast and dance! Let this night be a celebration to us all!" He cheered, getting overwhelmingly positive responses. However, he motioned for the crowd to quiet down, raising his head towards the ceiling.

"As for our uninvited guest, I'd like to invite him to join us." The Daimyo all but shouted, looking pretty smug for someone who was calling out for his potential assassin. "I want to see this man, this 'demon', the individual that gave my favorite ninja village so much trouble."

The crowd was silent, then erupted into whispers and murmurs, the civilians and nobility having been completely oblivious to the goings on in the village during the week. To hear that the rumors of a missing ninja lurking around the village were actually true...

Just as the Daimyo finished his speech, a thick white fog began to descend from the ceiling, the shinobi immediately reacting, leaping up in order to chase down the swordsman once and for all.

The moment they leapt up, the village leader was sent flying, the executioner's blade used like a paddle to punt her across the entire hall, crashing into the musicians. The screaming immediately began, and roughly a quarter of the shinobi came down from the ceiling. The rest, as they would later find out, were already knocked out by the half-dozen water clones Zabuza had left behind.

Bringing out that many clones wasn't smart for anyone save for a jinchuriki, but Zabuza needed the message sent. He had infiltrated a ninja village, taken out its' entire fighting force, leader included, and was now slowly walking towards the Land's Daimyo.

In his defense, the Daimyo didn't even flinch as the terrifying figure of the swordsman approached him, instead holding his ground with head held high. "You must be Zabuza, the Demon..."

Before he could finish his sentence, said Demon floored him with a powerful uppercut, effectively knocking him out for the rest of the evening. Zabuza glanced over at his clones, smirking upon realizing that even at a tenth of his power, he was more than strong enough to handle everything the village and Daimyo's guard could throw at him. However, before he could shout out his message and round out the evening, he was charged at from the side by none other than Haku's little girlfriend.

Unaware of his companion's intent, Haku could only mutely watch as Zabuza caught her with a kick to the side, sending her tumbling down. He turned his head to the boy, giving him an inquisitive glance.

Shaking his head, Haku carefully stepped into the fray, catching the Nadeshiko ninja off-guard with his sudden shift in allegiance. Within seconds, he had managed to take out over half a dozen shinobi, and the number was likely to rise. That is, until he heard the voice behind him.

"TRAITOR! LADY SHIZUKA TRUSTED YOU!" Yelled the man, looking vaguely familiar to the boy. Before he could react, though, something crashed into his head, steering him off his course, straight into the ground.

Exchanging glances, both Zabuza and Haku nodded, Zabuza dispersing a couple of clones in order to have enough water to cover the door frame with. With a few swift signs, Haku willed that water to freeze over, effectively sealing off the enemies' main access point. Not seconds later, the two mist assassins proceeded to do the same with the remaining doors, leaving only the windows still open.

With the immediate danger dealt with, Zabuza turned to his longtime companion. "Your girlfriend messed up my plan, Haku." He spoke in an even tone, hovering at the edges of amusement.

"She's not... Zabuza, I don't think we should linger here anymore." The boy spoke, deciding to ignore his mentor's jab.

Looking over the bodies that littered the hall, Zabuza nodded, then pointed to the girl that had so courageously and foolishly tried to attack him. "Pick her up."

"What?"

"It's not a very complicated instruction, Haku. Pick the girl up." He grunted, the annoyance more obvious in his voice.

"But, Zabuza.." Haku began, suddenly losing his words. They were kidnapping her? He made no mention of this in the note. All it said was that he was supposed to watch his back, nothing else. Why the sudden change? It made sense strategically, but could it be that he actually noticed?

"No arguing. The ice won't hold them off forever." Zabuza stated with a tone of finality, supplemented by just the right amount of killing intent to get the point across.

Nodding his head, Haku did as he was told, picking the girl up. She was surprisingly light, but he paid the fact little mind as he grabbed onto the man he had sworn to follow everywhere, watching as the floor became more distant with every second.

Once they were out of the window, Zabuza took a moment to bind the girl, then leapt down into the village, Haku following right behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Hopefully, the slightly longer chapter will make amends for the long delay between updates.<strong>

**Please review, hearing from the readers is by far the fastest way to get inspiration for the next chapter. I do appreciate the follows and favs, but they seem so..._impersonal, _if you know what I mean.  
><strong>


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